


How Did We Miss That?

by lindajenner



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:13:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 47,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindajenner/pseuds/lindajenner
Summary: As the Company moves East, they start to realise that there is more to the Burglar than they knew.Things that are obvious, now that they've opened their eyes.How did they miss that?
Comments: 185
Kudos: 334





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A most Unexpected Meeting.  
> Dwalin witnesses a sight not seen for many a decade.  
> The princes let slip some interesting tidbits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> E antuhif ‘ala astû, uzbad-ê. = I beg of you, my king.  
> Astû za-ut markel-ê. = you will be my greatest of shields  
> uzbadya imrikh. = royal shield  
> Fíli biriz rukhz! = Fíli golden demon!  
> Akdâmuthrab = Burglar  
> Kun, uzbad-dashatith = Yes, princeling/ little prince.  
> Idlên il-lagân sasfirmân adrân ibar = challenging the Valar to twist time is not wise  
> kakhfu = shit/crap

Bilbo opened his eyes and signed.

“Never challenge a Valar to do the impossible…” He muttered. “… you’ll always lose.” He climbed to his feet and eyed the vibrant clothes hanging over the chair beside his bed. “Ugh… Too bright.” He pulled on the green trousers and cream shirt.

Ignoring the golden mustard vest, he headed for his library, he needed to know the date. Challenging a Valar to twist time’s ear could have left him anywhere in his lifetime. Down the hall and into the library, across to his desk and the calendar at its top.

“1st of April 2939.” He tilted his head as he thought. “Two years. I’ve got two years before they arrive.” He nodded, sharply. “I need to know what I’m working with, here.”

He turned headed straight for his first dressing room and it’s full-length mirror. Once there, he stripped down to bare skin and studied his body.

A well-toned frame filled the mirror, he looked much as he had after five years of elven training in Valinor. Fit and strong were not the usual descriptors that would apply to a hobbit, but that was how Bilbo would say he looked. “Well, that’s not so bad, I can work with that.” He looked to the West. “My thanks, Lord Tulkas.”

Half an hour later, he sipped at a cup of tea while re-reading the pile of hastily scribbled notes in front of him.

“I need to have a word with Fortinbras. Then… I think a visit to Bree is in order.” He nodded and climbed to his feet.

Two hours later he left Hobbiton, bound for Tuckborough and the Great Smials that were home to most of the Took family. He arrived shortly before tea and after greeting his cousin’s wife, spent the rest of the afternoon secreted away with his cousin in the Thain’s office.

The pair emerged for dinner and retreated to the office immediately after clearing their plates, the sombreness of their faces, warding off questions from all who saw them. Long into the night the discussion continued, until Bilbo was hoarse from speaking and Fortinbras felt ill from what he had heard.

For two days, the pair were secluded away from the family. For two days Bilbo spoke and Fortinbras listened. For two days, the pair took notes and made plans. For two days, they plotted the downfall of three of the greatest Evils known to Middle Earth.

When breakfast was finished on the third day, Bilbo picked up his pack and bid his cousin farewell, saying that he would drop in on his return from Bree. He smiled, hugged and kissed those gathered to see him and ignoring their calls for him to stay, he went out the gate and down the lane, towards Three Farthing Stone and the East-West Road.

Three days it took him reach the market-town of Bree, the busiest settlement in the West. It was close on sunset as he reached the gate and after nodding to the gateman, he entered the town and made his way to the only Inn he knew for certain had rooms that were hobbit sized. The Prancing Pony.

The innkeeper showed him to a room and had a meal brought for him. After eating and bathing, he fell into a bed and knew nothing until morning.

A hearty breakfast and he was ready to wage war on the merchants of Bree. His first stop was a leatherworker’s shop and orders for a heavy oilskin coat, a travel pack, a heavy belt and a pair of fleece-lined gloves. Next was a tailor’s and orders for lightweight canvas trousers, sturdy linen shirts and underwear. Then to the wool merchant for fine wool, suitable for gloves and also heavier yarn, better suited to warm jumpers.

The sun was high and morning was gone, before Bilbo sighed and went looking for a blacksmith. He really hoped that there was a dwarven smith in town, he needed decent weapons and no Man could match a dwarf in blade-smithing.

If only he could have blades made by Thorin…

The dwarf-king’s loss was sadly lamented, and not just because of the position he was born to, his skill with hammer and tongs was unparalleled. After his death, blades made by his hands were highly coveted and given as gifts of great worth.

Bilbo had been gifted with one of Thorin’s small throwing knives by Dís, a year after his return to the Shire, as Dís was leading a convoy East. It had been his most constant companion until he had sailed West. To not have it now, was disheartening. He constantly found himself reaching for it.

Six smithies were visited and left, when the smiths either wouldn’t hear his request, weren’t dwarven or both. The seventh was on a back lane that lead to Coombe and was in a poorer part of town.

Bilbo stood near the doors to the smithy and sent a quick prayer that he would find a dwarven smith inside. He stepped into the darkness and through to the outer Forge area, his eyes resting on a heavy dwarven back.

A familiar dwarven back.

‘ _Dwalin_.’ He thought to himself, eyeing the cap of bald skull above dark hair.

He cleared his throat and when the dwarf turned around, he spoke. “Bilbo Baggins, at your service.” He gave a bow.

Dwalin's brows rose and after a heartbeat or two, he bowed back. “Dwalin, at yours…” He spoke slowly, hesitantly.

“Master Dwalin, I come looking for a smith of quality, I find I am in need of new blades.” Bilbo grimaced.

“Why? Wha’ happened to yer others?” Dwalin barked.

“Water and hobbits don’t mix well, I’m afraid. Little that started that journey with me, made it home again.” Bilbo said. It was true, but only a fraction of the truth.

“An’ yer blades were lost?” Dwalin asked.

“Blades, shield, pack and pony. All gone, now. I’ll not be getting on another boat if I can avoid it.” Bilbo replied.

“Huh.” Dwalin grunted. “Boats are the nay so bad, if yer pickin’ the righ’ one, lad.”

“And if you get the wrong one, no-one lives.” Bilbo added.

“Aye, tha’s the truth.” Dwalin grunted. “Wha’ sorta blades are ye after?”

“A sword, of course, one light enough for me to wield. But mostly knives.” Bilbo answered.

“Yer small, ye’ll need small knives.”

“Of course.” Bilbo said and finally approached the drawing table and its slate surface. He picked up a sliver of chalk and outlined a simple shape.

“Nay, lad, that’ll not work. Too fine.” Dwalin drew a second shape beside it.

“No, my hand won’t hold that.” Bilbo objected.

And the argument/debate was started.

Minutes later, they were still debating when a stomp of heavy feet on cobblestones was heard. Neither took much notice, the drawings and debate claiming their focus.

“Ye can argue with me, all ye like, laddie, it dain’t change nothing.” Dwalin said. “He’s the swordsmith, not me, he’ll make the blades as ‘e sees fit.”

As he spoke a figure filled the shadows of the smithy’s door, it stopped and stared at Dwalin and the hobbit, but Bilbo’s attention was firmly on the drawing table.

 _“Bilbo…?”_ Came a whisper of sound.

Bilbo’s head snapped up, his neck cracking he moved so quickly. He froze with his back to the door.

 _“Thorin…?”_ The whisper was his, this time.

The figure stepped from the shadows.

“Bilbo?” It asked a second time, a little clearer, but still no less disbelieving.

Bilbo spun around and gaped.

“Thorin?” Bilbo took one step toward the figure.

“Bilbo!” The dwarf’s voice filled with pleasure.

“Thorin!” Bilbo’s was just as bright.

“Say wha’ now?” Dwalin rumbled, but both dwarf and hobbit ignored him.

The hobbit had taken a few hasty steps across the courtyard but paused some feet from the dwarf. He took a deep breath and sank to one knee.

“My King.” He said. “You will call and I will answer.” The hobbit spoke the formal Oath of Service. “My blades are yours to claim. My life yours to claim. I ask only that you not send me from your side and allow me to guard you, as best I can.” It was the oath of a Royal Shield, the personal bodyguard to the king. “[E antuhif ‘ala astû, uzbad-ê](I%20beg%20of%20you,%20my%20king).”

Dwalin's eyes widened in shock, such oaths were rarely asked for and even more rarely offered by outsiders. And **never** in Khuzdul.

Thorin’s eyes widened, too. He didn’t expect to see Bilbo nor to have him swear himself to Thorin. Thorin wasn’t about to turn him away, not Bilbo, not after what the hobbit had suffered at his hands. But where did Bilbo learn Khuzdul? Or the Oath?

“Bilbo Baggins, I claim your blades and life to the service of my crown and my throne. I claim your blades and life in service to my heirs and my people.” Thorin replied, just as formally. He reached into his boot and pulled out a small throwing knife. “Receive your blades from my hands. May this blade be used in defence of myself, my heirs and my people.” The blade was held out hilt first, a sign of great trust and respect. “[Astû za-ut markel-ê.](you%20will%20be%20my%20greatest%20of%20shields)”

Dwalin reeled backwards, his shock was so great, only his hands bracing him against the table, stopped his fall.

Bilbo accepted the blade and allowed Thorin to draw him to his feet.

“So…?” Bilbo screwed up his nose. He was saying a lot without saying more than a single word. It was obvious that Thorin knew who Bilbo was and remembered their quest.

“Yes.” Thorin answered, rolling his eyes.

“And…?” Bilbo tweaked his eyes towards a still stunned Dwalin.

“No.”

“The boys…?” Bilbo asked, pleadingly.

“Yes.” Thorin glanced upwards.

Bilbo’s brows rose and his smile grew mischievous . He tilted back slightly from the waist and yelled.

“ _ **Fíli! Kíli!”**_

There was a crashed from above and a thundering of feet. Bilbo frowned and looked at Thorin. “Not enough feet.” He stated.

“No.” Thorin shook his head.

The thunder of feet reached the stairs and a tumble of dwarf came down them, the young dwarf leapt to his feet and shook himself off. “Bilbo?!” He yelled and darted across the space. He stopped, skidding to a halt when he saw the blade in Bilbo’s hands. “Bilbo?”

“He is our [uzbadya imrikh.](royal%20shield)” Thorin said and the young dwarf gasped.

“Truly, Uncle?”

“Aye, Kíli.” Thorin nodded.

“Yes!” Kíli crowed and grabbed Bilbo, dragging him close and gently tapping their foreheads together.

Bilbo staggered back and braced himself, expecting to be grabbed by a second dwarf, only to frown and look around when it didn't happen.

“Where is Fíli?” He asked.

“Dunno. Dwalin wanted him for something.” Kíli answered. “I was trying to finish the links on my coat, when he came downstairs.”

“Dwalin?” Thorin turned to friend and cousin. “Where is Fíli?”

It took Dwalin a few moments before he could make himself answer. “I sent ‘im to git some bread and ale.”

“In Bree?” Bilbo asked, his eyes widened alarmingly.

“Aye.” Dwalin nodded.

“Oh, Durin help us…” Thorin moaned.

“He’ll come back with everything but bread and ale.” Kíli muttered.

“If he finds his way back at all.” Bilbo sighed.

“You want me to go and get him, Uncle?” Kíli asked.

“No, Kíli. I’ll go.” Bilbo argued. “You go after him and I’ll end up having to come find you both.”

“Oi! I’m not that bad.” Kíli objected.

“Out on the flats or in the mountains, yes, I’d agree. But in town? No, you and Thorin stay here.”

Thorin grunted. The only reason he had found his way back to the smithy, was because he’d marked the corners of the various buildings that would lead him to and from the market.

Bilbo gave Thorin an amused look, shook his head and disappeared out into the street.

Bilbo huffed and stalked into the main marketplace, intent on finding the missing princeling. He stopped at the baker’s and asked after the blonde dwarf.

Yes, the lad had been, he’d bought a loaf and a baker’s dozen of rolls, but he’d left the store nearly an hour ago. He mentioned buying some candles

At the chandler’s Bilbo was told the dwarf had bought two fat, barrel candles and left a good ¾ of hour before. He was headed for the butcher’s, the shopkeeper thought.

The butcher sold Fíli five pound of sausages, five pound of mutton chops and a pound of suet. The little match girl outside the butcher’s had heard Fíli mention wanting some ink.

Over at the stationer’s, Bilbo was told that Fíli had bought ink, parchment and a blank journal.

From there he went to the cooper’s for a barrel.

Then to the wheelwright’s for a hand wagon.

The basket weaver’s for a basket when the sausages and mutton rolled around in the wagon.

The poultry store for a chicken to roast and some eggs.

The glassblower’s for a gift for his mother.

A second butcher’s for bacon.

The potter’s for a flagon.

The brew house for ale and the last place Bilbo was sent was to the confectioner’s.

As he trotted up the lane towards the confectioner’s out-of-the-way store, he saw a familiar golden head bobbing further along the lane.

He paused and yelled. “Fíli!”

The blonde dwarf froze for a moment, before shaking his head and starting off again.

“ **Fíli[biriz rukhz!”](golden%20demon) **He yelled.

Fíli froze and he turned slowly to face Bilbo.

“[ _Akdâmuthrab_](burglar)?” Fíli whispered.

“[Kun, uzbad-dashatith](Yes,%20princeling/little%20prince).” Bilbo replied as he reached the blonde. “Come on, your Uncle’s waiting. Did you at least get me some rock candy?”

“Aye and Thorin’s toffee.” Fíli nodded, still in shock. “Bilbo? How…?”

“[Idlên il-lagân sasfirmân adrân ibar](challenging%20the%20Valar%20to%20twist%20time%20is%20not%20wise).” Bilbo grimaced.

Fíli’s brows rose. “No, I would say not.” He looked around. “Uh…?”

“This way, my lad.” Bilbo gestured back the way he’d came.

In less the five minutes, they were back in the smithy.

“See? I told you he’d end up everything but the bread and ale.” Kíli moaned.

“Oi! I got them.” Fíli objected, reaching for said bread and the barrel of ale.

“And a lot of other things, too, it seems.” Thorin sighed.

“But I got them!” Fíli argued. “Dwalin sent me for bread and ale and I got bread and ale.” He laid them on the table. “Nothing was said about no getting anything else.”

“And that is how the little brat talks his way out of sentry duty.” Bilbo muttered to Thorin.

“Aye.” Thorin sighed.

“So, Bilbo?” Kíli sidled up to the hobbit. “Whatcha doing here? If ya didn’t know we were here, why did you come?”

“Blades, my boy, blades.” Bilbo huffed. “I took a trip with the old fool and a few of his tall friends.” Kíli’s eyes widened and he glanced towards the west. “Aye... And nothing came back with me. Nothing. Not a thing. So, I need some new blades. Sting is out there somewhere and I’m sure I’ll find it again, but in the meantime, I don’t fancy being unarmed.”

“But hobbits are rarely armed.” Fíli objected.

“Yes, but most hobbits aren’t the [uzbadya imrikh](royal%20shield), now are they?” Bilbo snorted.

“The… uz- uzbadya… imrikh…?” Fíli stammered.

“Aye.” Dwalin grunted, still not truly believing he’d seen it. “He gave his Oath and Thorin accepted it, even gave him a blade as Token of Office.”

“[Uzbadya imrikh](royal%20shield)?” Fíli said, again. “Only you, Bilbo, only you.” He shook his head but a small smile sat on his lips.

“Well, in my defence, I knew that sooner or later, Thorin would be calling me to arms and how could I respond, if I didn’t have any? I ask you, lad, how? I couldn’t, of course. Hence, my trip to Bree and hunting myself up a dwarven smith. I toured a half dozen smithies, before I found my way here and who should be pumping the bellows?”

“Dwalin.” Fíli and Kíli answered.

“Aye. We’ve just got started on some drawings when your Uncle scared the [kakhfu](shit/crap) out of me. I wasn’t expecting to find him in Bree. Bree! Of all places for him to be.” Bilbo ranted.

“And the uzbadya imrikh’s oath?” Fíli asked.

Bilbo shrugged, nonchalantly. “Eh, it seemed like a good idea and Mahal only knows how many times I’ve stepped between your Uncle’s rock-headedness and someone trying to kill him. I figured that I may as well be recognised as the poor sap in that position.” He was grinning as he answered.

“Oi!” Thorin chided while Fíli and Kíli giggled like dwarflings.

“Shut it, you.” Bilbo mock-glared at Thorin. “My first kill was saving you from your own bull-headed stupidity.”

Thorin frowned before he sighed. “Aye… That’s the truth. You had no idea how to hold that pretty elven letter-opener.”

“I learnt.” Bilbo argued. “And I still saved your hide twice that night. And after the horrible things you said, too, I might add.”

“Aye.” Thorin nodded. “And I shall be forever grateful, my friend, that you are as stubborn as I.”

“I agree.” Bilbo nodded. The pair had fairly much forgotten the other three dwarves. “Now, I came here for blades, will you make them for me?”

“You know that I will, [Akdâmuthrab](burglar).” Thorin lead him to the drawing table and the two began to draw.

Dwalin meanwhile had approached Fíli and Kíli as they leant against the hand-wagon.

“They’ve know each other a while, then?” He asked.

“Years.” Fíli said.

“About…” Kíli paused and looked at Fíli. “How many?”

“Too many.” Fíli snorted.

Dwalin eyed the arguing hobbit and dwarf-king. “[Akdâmuthrab](burglar)?”

“Thorin hired him.” Fíli answered.

“Thorin hired a thief?” Dwalin blinked

“No, a Burglar. There’s a difference.” Kíli objected.

“What difference?”

“A thief steels for profit, the Burglar did it for friendship.” Kíli said.

“And what he stole? What did he do with it?”

“Gave it away. To those that needed it more.” Fíli replied.

“Needed it more?”

“Bilbo’s wealthy, Dwalin. He’s a landowner, The Master of Bag End.” Kíli said.

“The current Head of his Family, too.” Fíli added.

“Oh, yeah forgot that.” Kíli nodded.

Dwalin had been watching Bilbo and Thorin, closely, as they talked.

“They do that, a lot?” He nodded in their direction.

“What? Finished each other’s sentences?” Kíli asked.

“Yeah, they started that pretty early on.” Fíli answered both lots of questions.

“And the talking back? Thorin is our king.”

“Hobbits don’t have a king.” Fíli said.

“And the closest they have is the Thain, currently that's Bilbo’s cousin.” Kíli added.

“Bilbo’s grandfather held the position until he died.” Fíli turned to Kíli. “When was that?”

“The Old Took?” Kíli frowned as he thought. “Um…? 2920? I think…?”

“Huh.” Dwalin grunted. “And he can use a sword?”

“He’s decent enough with a sword.” Fíli admitted.

“But he’s far better with throwing knives.” Kíli added.

“How much better?”

“Haven’t seen anyone as good, ever.” Fíli stated bluntly.

“Nori Ri?” The thief was renowned for his knife skills.

“Bilbo’s better.” Fíli shook his head.

Dwalin's brows rose, again. “Is he now?”

“Oh, yes.” Fíli nodded. “He can hit a cork, end on, at 20 yards.”

“We wagered with some Men, once. That Bilbo could hit it 20 times in a row.” Kíli chuckled.

“And?”

“The Men gave up, after 45 hits.” Kíli smirked.

“And no misses.” Fíli added.

“Well now…” Dwalin mused. “Maybe Thorin wasn’t so hasty in accepting him.”

“It’s only temporary, anyway.” Kíli muttered.

“Why temporary?” Dwalin asked.

“I can’t see any council of advisors letting the Prince Consort be the Royal Shield, can you?” Fíli snorted.

“Prince Consort?” Dwalin turned his attention from the hobbit, to look at Fíli.

“When they finally, figure it out.” Kíli huffed.

“Balin’s gonna kill me.” Dwalin muttered.

“Nah, if Bilbo can manage Thorin, he can manage Balin.” Fíli laughed.

“And ye mother?”

“I… don’t know if they’ve met…” Kíli looked at Fíli, who shrugged.

“Dunno.” Fíli grunted.

“Oh, wonderful…” Dwalin moaned. “I bring back Thorin, six months late, less than half money we'd aimed for, along with a Royal Shield that’s a hobbit and tell Dís that he’s also going to be her brother-in-law and I may as well hand her me axe and lay me head on the chopping block.”

“It’s not that bad, Dwalin, you’ll see.” Kíli laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Expected Party.  
> For a change someone ISN'T late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akdâmuthrab - burglar  
> Tharkûn = Gandalf (or what the dwarves call him, anyway)

_“Oh, wonderful…” Dwalin moaned. “I bring back Thorin, six months late, along with a Royal Shield that’s a hobbit and tell Dís that he's also going to be her brother-in-law and I may as well hand her me axe and lay me head on the chopping block.”_

_“It’s not that bad, Dwalin, you’ll see.” Kíli laughed._

Bilbo laid the finishing touches to the table and nodded his head. Roasts of lamb, beef and chicken, grilled and roasted vegetables, cheeses, breads, sauces and a lone salad filled the table in the huge dining room of his smial.

“Well, that’s as good as it’s going to get, Bilbo, my boy.” He told himself. “Now, where are they?”

His timing was perfect, a loud tinkling of the doorbell rang through the halls.

“Oh, good.” He hurried to the door and after a quick pause to check his clothes, he pulled the door open.

“Bilbo!” Two voices greeted him.

“Fíli! Kíli! Oh, lads, welcome. Come in, come in.” Bilbo braced himself for the manhandling he knew was coming and sure enough, that’s what he got. Fíli hugged him and gently tapped his head against Bilbo’s before handing him to Kíli.

“You ready to go?” Kíli asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, lad.” Bilbo replied.

“And your hobbit hole?” Fíli asked.

“Father’s Uncle Largo has bought it for his son, Fosco.” Bilbo assured the two princes. “It’s all taken care of. The Thain and Largo will supervise him, until he’s comfortable managing the estate.”

“And you got paid for that? Right?” Fíli asked.

“Of course, I got paid, Fíli. Fortinbras handled the sale. I came out quite ahead of where I expected to be.”

“You’re not bringing it with you, are you?” Kíli asked.

“I am, but not to worry, the Valar provided a magic purse to keep it all in. No-one but me can touch or open the purse. In fact… no-one but me can even see the purse, unless I want them to. Thranduil’s not getting his hands on it, don’t you worry.” It had been a bit of a surprise to find on the altar of his little Shrine to the Valar, the day after his return from Bree but very welcome all the same.

“Pity we didn’t have something like that to keep the rest of our stuff in.” Kíli muttered.

“Oh, now there’s a thought.” Bilbo huffed. “I’ll pop down to the shrine, down the back hall, a little later, see if They can help.”

The bell tinkled again.

“That’ll be the door, then.” Kíli grinned.

“Ooh, you watch it, laddie.” Bilbo mock glared at the dwarf and went to open the door.

A pile of dwarves tumble into his front hall and behind them stood Gandalf the Grey.

“I should have known _**you’d**_ be behind this.” Bilbo half-snarled-half-sighed. “I’ll have you know that inviting people into someone else’s home is extremely rude, old man. You’d best be grateful, that someone sent along a message, early enough for me to prepare something for them to eat.” Gandalf blinked at the reprimand. “You lot had better come in, before Fíli and Kíli empty the table. And no touching what’s in the kitchen, that’s for his royal lateness.”

“I’m not late.” Came a deep rumbling voice from the outer garden. “I was seeing to a message to Dís.”

“Ah, in that case, come along. Inside.” Bilbo gently bullied Thorin passed the tumble of dwarves on the floor and lead him into the hall. “Coat, please.” Bilbo ordered and Thorin placed his heavy fur coat over the hobbit's arm, Bibo carefully hung it on a peg before turing back to Thorin. “Weapons, please.” He held out a hand and Thorin began to pass blades to him, each was carefully placed on a table and the next was taken. “Thank you, Fíli and Kíli are here, probably in the dining room.”

“Likely they’ll have already started eating, then.” Thorin huffed.

“They’d better not have, they know how I feel about that.” Bilbo warned, just loud enough for it to carry to the dining room.

“You’d think after all this time, they’d know better.” Thorin sighed and shook his head. “They’re like dwarflings, they’ll always try to push their limits.”

“They’d better not, in my home.” Bilbo growled.

“Good luck with that, [Akdâmuthrab](burglar).” Dwalin grunted.

“Dwalin, good to see you again. How did the axe design go? Did it scale up, like we hoped?” Bilbo asked.

“Aye. Good.” Dwalin held out an axe. “The latticing gave it extra strength without adding any extra weight. I like it.”

“Oh, very nice.” Bilbo stepped forward and leant in to study the axe, without touching it. “Yes, it come out well, didn’t it? And the balance is good?”

“Ah, I did have to add a counterbalance. The balance was too even, iffen I spun it, it just as often came up shaft-up as head-up.” Dwalin replied.

“Oh, dear, I hadn’t considered that.” Bilbo winced. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Nah, I put a pike on the head end of the shaft, it’s the same lattice design, I just used yer knife drawings and kept it to the original size. See?” Dwalin indicated to a knife-like blade protruding from the shaft between the two axe-heads.

“Oh, yes, I didn’t even notice it wasn’t part of the original design. Well done indeed.” Bilbo cheered. “Come on, there’s a rack there for your axes and a basket for the swords, you know I don’t like the bigger weapons at the dining table.”

Through all this, Bilbo was ignoring Gandalf and his probing looks. Serves the old meddler right. Gouging his door and offering up his pantry without so much as a by-your-leave. The wizard might have been a good friend, but that didn’t blind Bilbo to his faults.

The night progressed much as it had in Bilbo’s memories and soon enough, he was settling dwarves down in all parts of his smial. The two young princes claiming the room opposite his, while Thorin was quite matter-of-fact about placing his pack in Bilbo’s room. Much to Balin's dismay and the princes’ amusement. After seeing them all bedded down, Bilbo headed for an unadorned hallway. At the far end of the hall, he opened a door and was not all that surprised to see that the altar bore four small pouches, all bore the same seven-point star as his purse but each also bore a separate sigil.

Sigils that Bilbo knew belonged to Thorin, Fíli and Kíli and he assumed that the fourth was meant to be his. A geometric stalk of wheat.

He gathered up the pouches and quietly left the bowl of mixed candies on the altar, watching in amazement as piece by piece the candy vanished, before leaving the shrine’s room. He tapped quietly on the door of the princes’ room and when Fíli opened it, he passed two of the pouches to the dwarf.

“Only things the others will not notice are missing.” He advised.

“Yes, Bilbo.” Fíli nodded.

“Good lad. Leave the foodstuffs to me and I’ll explain more about these, later.”

“Yes, Bilbo.” Fíli repeated.

Bilbo smiled at him and nodded. “Get some sleep, it’ll be an early morning.”

“Urgh.” Fíli grunted and pushed the door closed.

Bilbo turned on his heel and went through the door, directly opposite.

“What was that all about?” Thorin asked, his voice a quiet rumble.

“Ah, shortly before all that lot fell through my front door, the lads and I were talking about my having sold the smial to my father’s Uncle for his son, Fosco.”

“And?”

“And Kíli asked if I was taking the gold from the sale with me.” Bilbo started.

“You’re not, are you?” Thorin sat up in the bed, the sheet falling to his waist.

Bilbo held up a hand. “I am, but as I told the lads, the Valar provided me with a purse that only I can open and only those that I want to, can even see it.”

“Huh…” Thorin grunted.

“Yes. Well, Kíli commented that it was a pity we didn’t have something like that for the rest of our stuff.” Bilbo paused as he pulled his shirt over his head. “And I said that I’d pop down to the shrine and ask if the Valar could help.”

“And?”

“And…” Bilbo held up a pouch bearing Thorin’s sigil. “There were four of these on the altar. I put the bowl of candies down and they vanished within seconds.”

“You _**saw**_ them vanish?” Thorin’s eyes widened.

“I did, it was literally like some invisible hand was picking them out of the bowl.” There was amusement in Bilbo’s voice. “The Valar _**do**_ like their candy.” He laid his and Thorin’s pouches on the dresser and picked up his nightshirt. “Like I told the boys, pack only the things that the others won’t notice are missing. As we get further along, we can add things that we pick up.” He pulled the shirt over his head.

“The troll hoard.” Thorin nodded.

Bilbo shucked his trousers and laid them over a chair. “The troll hoard.” He agreed. “And in Rivendell I can raid the kitchens for dried foods.”

“Getting a water barrel into one of them isn’t going to be easy.” Thorin muttered.

“No, but I think we’re better off without them. Maybe a few waterskins. Barrels would be noticed, if we were to pull one of them out of nowhere.” Bilbo dampened a cloth and washed his face.

“True.” Thorin nodded, then snorted. “I’m looking forward to seeing the old meddler’s face tomorrow when you’re wear all your blades.”

“Ah, well, you’re going to be a little disappointed.” Bilbo grimaced as he dried his face and turned to the bed, sliding in alongside Thorin.

“Oh?”

“Weapons and hobbits don’t go well.” Bilbo wriggled around until he was comfortable. “I had figured that I wouldn't alarm the locals too badly, I’m already a scandal for running off with you. Weapons would be too much. I was just going to let them creep out of my bag, one at a time until I was wearing them all, and not say a word.”

“Oh, the confusion.” Thorin snorted in amusement.

“Exactly, he’ll not know where they’re coming from _**and**_ he’s no idea that I can use them.” Bilbo huffed.

“Do you think he thought it through? Or was asking you, just a... a spur of the moment thing?” Thorin was talking about Gandalf and his choice of Bilbo as the burglar.

“I don’t know.” Bilbo sighed. “I hope so, but this is [Tharkûn](Gandalf) we’re talking about, he’s just as likely to have forgotten that mother died and was going to rope her into going.”

“When did you see him last? Before today, I mean.”

“I was five, Thorin. The Old Took’s Birthday, it was and Tharkûn was setting his whizz-poppers off, as he always did.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Forty-eight years.” Bilbo replied sleepily.

“Forty-eight years since he saw you last? And he thought he could just send you off with us?” Thorin was stunned.

“Yeah…” Bilbo was more asleep than awake.

“Sleep, my little shield. We can deal with the wizard tomorrow.” Thorin pulled the covers up over Bilbo’s shoulders and settled himself down beside the smaller male.

“… tomorrow…” Bilbo whispered as he closed his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balin and Gandalf begin to suspect that there's something they've not been told.

_“Forty-eight years since he saw you last? And he thought he could just send you off with us?” Thorin was stunned._

_“Yeah…” Bilbo was more asleep than awake._

_“Sleep, my little shield. We can deal with the wizard tomorrow.” Thorin pulled the covers up over Bilbo’s shoulders and settled himself beside the smaller male._

_“… tomorrow…” Bilbo whispered as he closed his eyes._

Morning came early but even the first rays of sunlight were not early enough to wake a hobbit. Bilbo was up and had finished the last of his packing and transferred some of the larger items from his magical money purse to the Valar-gifted pouch. Opening the pouch had caused Bilbo to tilt his head in confusion for a few moments, until he realised what he was looking at.

Each pouch was a simple circle of leather, embossed with a pair of symbols, one for the Valar and one for the person to whom it had been gifted. With the drawstring opened fully and the pouch laid flat, the interior was clear to see. A shaft fell away from the edges of the pouch, as though it were a barrel pushed into the leather but Instead of the barrel having solid timber walls, it had two rows of shelving around of a central shaft.

After carefully checking his measurements, Bilbo decided that a fair number of his specially saved items would fit in the pouch. Placed on the lower shevles, the majority of small things would fit and still leave room in the central shaft for weapons and bags of other supplies. The larger items were better off to be left in Bag End's storage room, waiting for a caravn to head east. He would be keeping the purse for money and items raided from the trolls’ hoard and supplies picked up along the way. Neither Gandalf nor the dwarves would notice if he tossed a few things into a purse, they would be too busy doing the same and filling a small chest. The rest of the shelves in the pouch would be slowly filled by foodstuffs, bags of grains and flour, extra weapons and the like would fill the central shaft. It wouldn't feed the entire Company for long but between the four of them, they could store fair amount to supplement Kíli's hunting. If they needed to move items from one pouch to another, it would only take a few seconds and could easily be done without spectators.

By the time the sun rose, Bilbo and Thorin had repacked their pouches and travel packs and Bilbo had ducked into the young princes’ room and woken them. Then he’d explained that the little he knew of the pouches, came from a discussion with Glorfindel and Ecthelion in Valinor. It wasn’t much but it was enough to relieve the lads’ worry over the pouches being taken from them. They quickly placed a few of their more precious items on the lower shelves and a couple of changes of clothes went on an upper shelf.

After seeing to the young princes, Bilbo sent them to rouse the rest of the Company, while he saw to the making of breakfast. After which, it was time to find their ponies and get on the road.

Once they entered Hobbiton, proper, Bilbo told Thorin and Balin that he needed to leave some last-minute instructions for the market manager and that he would catch up to them before they were much farther down the road than Bywater. From Hobbiton to Bywater and the East-West Road, wasn’t far, only four-and-a-half miles but it should be long enough for Bilbo to speak to his manager. Only Thorin, Fíli and Kíli knew that Bilbo would also be stocking up on dried goods and collecting the last month’s rents, before the estate was handed over to his Uncle.

As Bilbo left the market, the first of many knives appeared, his Token of Office was in a sheath strapped to his belt, under the drape of his oilskin coat. Hobbits would overlook it, the dwarves wouldn’t take any notice of just one knife and Gandalf wouldn’t consider that a hobbit would be armed. Only Thorin, Fíli and Kíli would know it was there. And over time, Bilbo would add to his collection, not every day but at least once a week, a new blade would appear. He still intended to claim Sting but it would be tucked away, with him claiming ‘one sword is enough for a hobbit, but I’ll keep it for a back-up’.

Bilbo re-joined the Company well before they reached the Three Farthing Stone, that marked the exact middle of the Shire. His pony trotted into sight over a rise and Thorin watched as both Fíli and Kíli sighed in relief at having their Burglar back with them. Bilbo pulled his rohirrim pony back to a walk as it reached Thorin’s.

“You business is complete?” Thorin asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Bilbo nodded. “Just clearing up a few things before Largo and Fosco take over management of the estate.”

“Ah.” Thorin grunted.

“Your cousins?” Balin asked from behind them.

“My father’s uncle and cousin.” Bilbo said over his shoulder.

“They will be tending to your estate, while you’re with us, then?” Balin inquired.

“They’ll see to the management from tomorrow.” Bilbo replied. It was true but he left out, that the reason they taking it over, was that Bilbo had sold it to Largo, intending on not returning to the Shire.

“And your nice little hobbit hole?” Dori asked.

“One of the Uncles is going to stay there.” Bilbo didn’t say it was the same Uncle. “Lobelia won't get her sticky little hands on my silver spoons.” She couldn’t, the tea set and sppons were in Bilbo’s pouch, along with the rest of his silverware.

“Ah.” Balin nodded and allowed the subject to drop.

Three days later, Balin was still getting used to the new group dynamics, not the least of which was that Bilbo seemed to be the only one that could reel in the two young princes. Keeping them from disappearing into the markets of Bree was a challenge that Balin happily gave over to the hobbit. In the four hours that the Company were in the town, the princes had vanished no less than a dozen times and each time Thorin had looked to Bilbo and the hobbit had just sighed, made a snarky comment about dwarves and how their sense of direction mucked up, the instant they hit a wooden building.

Then he’d slip down of his pony and within a few feet, he’d vanish, just as the princes had. Less than ten minutes later, he’d be back with a dwarf in tow, usually muttering about the lads disturbing the shopkeepers.

As they left Bree and continued east, Balin noticed something that he wasn’t sure what to make of.

The hobbit had dwarven knives. And over time there was getting to be more of them. On the sixth day after leaving Bree, he reined his pony alongside Dwalin's and nudged his brother’s boot.

“Eh?” Dwalin grunted.

“The hobbit?” Balin asked.

“Wha’ about ‘im?”

“Is it just me, or am I seeing knives where, when we left Hobbiton, there were none?” Balin asked.

“Probably.” Dwalin grunted.

“Where is he getting them from?”

“’From 'is pack, I’d say.” Dwalin answered, not interested in the conversation.

“But-”

The subject was dropped as a small band of bandits accosted them. Balin was quite surprised to see the hobbit fighting just a viciously as any dwarf and as they cleaned of their blades, he realised that hobbit’s blades were of dwarven make.

“Brother?”

“Wha’?” Dwalin grunted, the cut to his arm stung and he wished that Oín would hurry up with its cleaning.

“The hobbit’s has dwarven knives.” Balin stated.

“Aye.”

“Where did he get them?”

“Thorin.” Dwalin grit his teeth as Oín probed into the slice.

“Why would he do such a thing?” Balin didn’t understand.

Another two days passed and Balin again, pulled his pony alongside his brother’s.

“I know the hobbit didn’t have a sword yesterday, brother.” He said, causing Dwalin to tilt his head to study the hobbit.

“Huh, now where’d he stash that?”

“Dwalin?”

“I thought he’d left that behind.”

“Seems you were wrong.” Balin smirked.

“Aye.”

“So, where was he keeping it?”

“With ‘im? Who knows, probably up ‘is jumper.” Dwalin grunted, he'd seen the hobbit pull things from seemingly nowhere before, why should it be any different now?

Watching as the dwarves raided a troll lair, Balin tried to keep an eye on the hobbit, but the fumes and stench in the cave were making his eye water and every time he thought he had the hobbit in his sights, someone would distract him and he'd lose track of the Shireling for a few moments.

When Gandalf emerged from the cave, Bilbo and Balin were standing guard over the Company’s packs.

“Bilbo?” Gandalf called.

“Hm?” Bilbo grunted as he handed a waterskin to Ori.

“Here.” Gandalf held out a knife in a sheath. “This is about your size.”

“I can’t keep this.” Bilbo muttered, it really belonged to poor Frodo.

“The blade is of elvish make, which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby.” Gandalf frowned.

“I don’t have space for it, Gandalf.” Bilbo huffed. "Anyway, I already have an elven knife." He held up his right arm to show off a small stiletto shoved under the straps his vambrace on the underside of his arm.

Gandalf blinked looked at the hobbit.

On his forearms the hobbit wore vambraces that clearly held throwing daggers, while under the sturdy oilskin coat, the wizard could see a harness, of sorts, that held smaller throwing knives, many knives. At his hips he wore an unusual sword, reaching mid-shin the blade was an odd design, clearly dwarven lines but also with clearly non-dwarven etchings. Gandalf had not seen anything like it before. It made him look closer. On the hobbit’s other hip was a very definitely dwarven boot knife, not quite long enough for a sword for Bilbo, but it was strapped to his hip and leg as though it were one and on each shin, there was another knife strapped to his leg.

“You could move that to your back.” Gandalf gestured to the boot knife at his waist.

“No.” There was no give in the hobbit’s word.

“Bilbo…” Gandalf started.

“No, that is my Token of Office, it stays.”

Bilbo’s words silenced Gandalf, he knew enough about dwarven culture to know that a Token of Office is always worn and never hidden. And sometimes the dwarf who gave the Token would choose where it was to be worn.

“The Office of Burglar?” Gandalf held back a smirk.

“Oh, no, that came later.” Bilbo said and slid Sting into his pack. “I suppose I can keep this for a backup, if I need one.”

“Later?”

“Much later.” Bilbo nodded.

Gandalf opened his mouth to ask a question, only to be cut off by Thorin.

“Something’s coming!” The dwarf king called.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori realises that he's not as observant as he thought he was and isn't pleased by the discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield  
> Uzbadya Yâsûn = Royal Consort/husband  
> Akdâmuthrab = burglar  
> E antuhif ‘ala astû, uzbad-ê = I beg of you, my king  
> Astû za-ut markel-ê. = you will be my greatest of shields

_“The Office of Burglar?” Gandalf held back a smirk._

_“Oh, no, that came later.” Bilbo said and slid Sting into his pack. “I suppose I can keep this for a backup, if I need one.”_

_“Later?”_

_“Much later.” Bilbo nodded._

_Gandalf opened his mouth to ask a question, only to be cut off by Thorin._

_“Something’s coming!” The dwarf king called._

Upon entering Rivendell, Bilbo and Thorin seemed content to let Gandalf take control.

Seemed.

Things were not what how they appeared.

Thorin and Bilbo knew that Elrond would pull Gandalf away from the Company, dragging the wizard into meeting after meeting, Elrond wasn’t pleased with Gandalf and had called for a meeting of the White Council.

Bilbo and Thorin planned to use this to their own advantage.

Bilbo spent most of his time dodging Gandalf and returning items that Nori stole. Not that either Gandalf or Nori were aware of the hobbit’s actions. Not for over three weeks and as Bilbo and Thorin had been keeping careful note of the date, they knew that Nori had only begun to suspect Bilbo's involvement, the evening that the White Council met.

A bare six hours before the Company would depart from Rivendell, sneaking out like thieves in the night, Nori had realised that his stash of purloined goodies was missing. After a subtle poking around in the Company’s packs and not finding anything, Nori started to frown at the only other known thief. Which, given that Bilbo had seen to it that Nori’s thieving fingers were empty of spoils, Thorin found amusing.

As they stepped over into the wild, Bilbo gave up the pretence of being unarmed. He walked out of Rivendell with over two dozen blades stashed about his body in carefully made sheaths. Not that the dwarves, other than Thorin, Fíli, Kíli and Dwalin were aware of it, it was only shortly after midnight and the moon was little more than an arc in the sky.

About mid-morning, Nori approached Balin.

“There’s something off about the burglar.” Nori said, almost silently.

“I am aware.” Balin replied. “But I have yet to decide what.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Do.”

Nori grunted and pulled back to speak to Bofur, the miner was free with his mouth and kept few secrets.

Four days passed before Nori once more, approached Balin.

“You see it?” Balin asked.

“Yes.” Nori answered.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“No, neither do I.”

“Does anyone else see it?”

“Dwalin, but he’s keeping his tongue, says it’s a good thing.” Balin admitted.

“Dwalin?” Nori’s eyes widened slightly. “I figured he knew but to agree with whatever it is?”

“Aye, as do Thorin and the princes.”

“Hmm… I didn’t pick them. Any of them.” Nori was a little put out with himself, he should have spotted that.

“Watch the way they act towards him.” Balin advised.

“I will.” Nori quickened his pace and join Oín and Gloín’s argument about cudgel versus bludgeon.

Three more days and Nori flopped down near Balin.

“The hobbit’s Thorin’s [Uzbadya Imrikh](royal%20shield).” He muttered.

“Not for long, according to Dwalin.” Balin sighed.

“Why? How’s Thorin plan on getting rid of him?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Then… what…?” Nori frowned.

“The princes think Master Baggins will be Thorin’s [Uzbadya Yâsûn](Royal%20Consort).” 

Nori’s eyes nearly bugled from his head. _“What…?”_ He gasped, almost silently.

“You heard me.”

“But… but…” Nori stammered.

“But… neither of them have figured it out yet.” Balin sighed again.

“But…”

“Watch and see for yourself.” Balin shook his head.

“I…” Nori shook his head sharply. “I think I had better."

Watching was easy for Nori, believing what he saw… not so easy. Not until the night of the thunder battle. Then he joined Balin and sighed.

“You were right.”

“Not me.” Balin objected. “The princelings were the first to see it.”

“Don’t be telling them.” Nori advised.

“Not a chance.”

Escaping from the goblin town into the sunlight, the wizard counted off the dwarves before frowning.

“Where is Bilbo?” He called, not caring that his voice carried farther than was wise. “Where is our hobbit?”

“Oi!” A faint voice called. “I’m coming, hold your ponies.” The voice grew stronger as it got closer.

“Bilbo Baggins.” Gandalf started only to be ignored as Bilbo went straight to Thorin, Fíli and Kíli.

“Are you alright?” The hobbit demanded.

“Shaken and rattled, but uninjured.” Thorin reported.

“Good, see that you keep it that way.”

“I shall do my best, [Akdâmuthrab](burglar), but we do have orcs and goblins hunting us.” Thorin agreed, with a caveat.

Before Bilbo could comment, a howl was heard.

“Out of the frying pan…” Gandalf muttered.

“… and into the fire.” Thorin finished.

“Into the trees! Climb!” Gandalf ordered.

The company scrambled into the lower branches of the pine tree, not realising that Bilbo was waiting until Thorin, Fíli and Kíli were safe before turning to do the same. He glared at a warg that got between he and a tree.

“Not afraid of you, you ugly beastie.” He snarled and pulled a dirty dagger that he’d stolen from the body of the goblin that fell into Gollum’s lair with him, and with another glare and a flick of his wrist the dagger embedded itself in the warg’s brain, the hilt emerging from the beast’s eye. The beast slumped, dead before it hit the ground.

A hand waved and Bilbo happily grabbed it and dragged himself up into the branches.

“A warg is a fine first kill.” Gloín nodded to him.

“It is and while **_a_** warg was my first, it was years ago.” Bilbo replied.

Gloín didn’t get a chance to reply, as the orcs appeared and all the dwarves groaned.

“Azog…” Bilbo heard Thorin whisper.

Then fire was raining down from the trees, neither the stupid wizard nor the dwarves seeing anything wrong with hurling burning pinecones at their enemy, while they perched in trees that had not seen rain for months.

“Idiots, the lot of them.” Gloín heard the hobbit mutter in disgust.

Then the trees began to tilt and the hobbit huffed and leapt to a second tree, then a third and to a fourth, but from here there was no place to go. The tree tilted out over a great abyss in the mountains, its roots stubbornly clinging to the cliff’s edge.

But those roots were losing their hold.

Ori was the first fall, grasping at Dori as he fell, finally getting a hold of one of his brother’s boots. Dori called to Gandalf for help, the wizard thrusting the end of his staff for Dori to grasp.

It was at that point that Thorin glanced at the hobbit and the two exchanged a resigned look. Thorin then stood up and began to walk down the trunk of the tree, while the hobbit wriggled himself to his feet, hidden behind a branch. Thorin raised his shield and held his sword at the ready, he knew what was coming and how much it was going to hurt, but he also knew that Bilbo would not let Azog claim him.

The clash between Thorin and the white warg was violent and threw Thorin from his feet, as he dragged himself upright, he was glad that he was wear mail, it would lessen the impact of Azog’s mace and then the warg’s teeth. It was still going to hurt, though.

It did.

As blackness claimed him, he saw Bilbo standing over him with a savage expression on his face and a dead orc at his feet.

He woke to Gandalf’s face.

“Bilbo?” he asked.

“It’s alright, Bilbo is here. Quite safe.” Gandalf reassured him.

Dwalin and Kíli helped him to his feet, his ribs screaming in pain. Once upright, he gestured and Bilbo came to him, his arms surrounding the hobbit.

“Thank you, Akdâmuthrab, you saved my life, once again.”

“And I always will, Thorin.” Bilbo assured him.

“Once or twice, I can allow, but ten times and more? As you seem to have decided that it is your task, I name you as Uzbadya Imrikh.” A subtle smirk graced his lips.

His statement was countered by Balin. “An oath must be given.”

Bilbo winked at Thorin and stepped back, he went gracefully to one knee and held out the dagger that Thorin had given him in Bree.

“My King.” He said, formally. “You will call and I will answer. My blades are yours to claim. My life is yours to claim. I ask only, that you not send me from your side and allow me to guard you, as best I can. [E antuhif ‘ala astû, uzbad-ê](I%20beg%20of%20you,%20my%20king).” The hobbit spoke the formal Oath of Service, finishing it in khuzdul, knowing that without it, his oath wouldn’t be valid.

Thorin accepted the blade from Bilbo hands.

“Bilbo Baggins, I claim your blades and life to the service of my crown and my throne. I claim your blades and life in service to my heirs and people. May this blade be used in defence of myself, my heirs and my people.” The blade was held out hilt first, a sign of great trust and respect. “[Astû za-ut markel-ê.](you%20will%20be%20my%20greatest%20of%20shields)”

“Heard and witnessed.” The two young princes stated.

“Heard and witnessed.” Dwalin and Balin said.

“Heard and witnessed.” Nori Ri added.

“Heard and witnessed.” Gloín nodded.

The other dwarves made appropriate sounds, but most of them were in shock. However, their shock was nothing compared to that of Gandalf.

“You’ve been keeping secrets, Bilbo Baggins.” He huffed.

“I have.” Bilbo smirked. “But so have you, old man. All of us have our own secrets. And it is our right to keep them. As long as they harm no-one, no-one can complain, no-one can demand we share them, not without offering up their own secrets in exchange.”

Gandalf tilted his head and narrowed his eyes but the hobbit ignored him. After facing the dragon in its stolen lair, the wizard’s glare was nothing to fear.

The Great Eagles flew around them and screeched their farewell, drawing their attention to the east. Thorin’s face showed the reverence that he felt.

“Is that…?” Bilbo wasn’t sure who spoke, but it wasn’t him.

“Erebor.” Gandalf said. “The Lonely Mountain. The last of the Great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle Earth.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More dwarven discussions about a hobbit.  
> No, we're not going through Mirkwood again.

_“You’ve been keeping secrets, Bilbo Baggins.” He huffed._

_“I have.” Bilbo smirked. “But so have you, old man. All of us have our own secrets. And it is our right to keep them. As long as they harm no-one, no-one can complain, no-one can demand we share them, not without offering up their own secrets in exchange.”_

_Gandalf tilted his head and narrowed his eyes but the hobbit ignored him. After facing the dragon in its stolen lair, the wizard’s glare was nothing to fear._

_The Great Eagles flew around them and screeched their farewell, drawing their attention to the east. Thorin’s face showed the reverence that he felt._

_“Is that…?” Bilbo wasn’t sure who spoke, but it wasn’t him._

_“Erebor.” Gandalf said. “The Lonely Mountain. The last of the Great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle Earth.”_

Descending from the Carrock and reaching Beorn’s House, went without any new problems showing their faces. Bilbo slept with Thorin, Fíli and Kíli tucked between himself and the wall, in the corner of the barn.

“He’s taking this a bit seriously, isn’t he?” Bofur asked.

“Taking what a bit seriously?” Nori looked sideways at the miner.

“This royal shield business.”

“No, he’s taking exactly as seriously as Thorin meant him to.” Nori replied.

“He meant it?” Bofur blinked.

“Aye, Thorin meant it.” Nori nodded. “From what I can glean from Balin, the hobbit’s been around for a while.”

“Thorin did say, it wasn’t the first time Bilbo had saved his life.” Bofur mused.

On the other side of the barn, Bifur and Oín were also discussing the hobbit and his ‘new’ position. However, due to Bifur’s speech impediment and Oín imitating a hearing loss, they were chatting in Inglishmêk, the secret hand-sign language of the dwarves.

‘Royal Shield?’ Bifur asked.

‘Aye.” Oín huffed.

‘A halfling?’

‘Did you watch him take down that first warg?’ Oín asked.

‘Aye. He said he weren’t afraid of it.’

‘Eh, not surprised. He told Gloín it wasn’t his first kill or even his first warg.’

‘Really?’ Bifur asked.

‘Haven’t you noticed? He’s got nearly as many blades on him as Fíli does, and all of them are made by Thorin.’ Oín told the valet-turned-miner.

‘He does seem a bit more martial than most hobbits.’ Bifur agreed.

‘And he speaks Khuzdul.’ Oín said.

Bifur’s eyes widened. ‘Thorin hasn’t stopped it?’

‘No, he’s as like as not, to ask the hobbit a question in Khuzdul, as in Common.’

‘Huh… I think there might be more to the burglar than we know about.’ Bifur mused.

‘He did tell Tharkûn he was keeping secrets.’ Oín remembered.

‘He did and accused the wizard of keeping his own, and unless he was prepared to tell them, he shouldn’t expect Bilbo to tell his.’ Bifur snorted.

‘Yes, the wizard’s keeping something back.’

‘Aren’t we all?’

‘But if we aren’t ready to share, we shouldn’t expect others to share, either.’ Oín sighed.

‘No.’ Bifur shook his head.

‘Blast.’ Oín huffed.

“Cutting through Mirkwood is the only option.” Gandalf started.

“No, it’s not.” Thorin countered. “If we cut straight through, we’re looking at something like four hundred miles from here to Erebor.”

“Exactly.” Gandalf said. “It’s much further going any other way.”

“But going any other way, we have less chance of meeting the spiders that your friend Radagast told you about.” Kíli objected.

“Or of getting arrested by the elves.” Fíli said. “I don’t fancy a stay in their dungeons.”

“Thranduil would not do such a thing.” Gandalf decried.

“Yes, he would.” Beorn corrected. “Anyone that enters the forest is at his mercy and he shows none.”

“Now, really-” Gandalf objected.

“If we were to go south to the East-West road, he’s bound by treaties with too many people, to object.” Balin cut in.

“But that would add another two hundred miles to the journey.” Gandalf told them. "At least."

“True.” Balin nodded.

“There’s also the option of going north around the forest.” Bilbo put in. “It would maybe fifty miles to the journey, but it would let us hunt as we went, once we leave Beorn’s lands, of course.” Bilbo nodded Beorn.

“Fifty miles?” Gandalf asked.

“According to your map.” Bilbo laid the wizard’s map on the table in front of them and tapped his small finger on a point on the map titled ‘Carrock’. “Based on what I know is the distance from Hobbiton to Bree; from here, up around here,” his ran his finger along the edge of the forest, “to here, is roughly four hundred and fifty miles. Roughly... **_assuming_** your map is to scale.” He cast a dubious look at the wizard.

“It would allow us to hunt.” Kíli nodded.

“And less chance of meeting them tree huggers.” Dwalin said.

“It would also allow us some shelter if we were to be found be either, the elves or orcs.” Balin added. “We could use the edges of the forest to avoid orcs and head out further into the plains to avoid the elves.”

“Thranduil does not let his elves leave the forest.” Beorn said. “They may follow you, but they will not leave the forest without his consent.”

“That is true.” Gandalf nodded. “But fifty miles is a lot to add.”

“It is.” Thorin allowed. “But I think it is worth it for what it adds. The ability to hunt and see any attacks that may come.”

“It’d let us set watches that can actually see anything coming.” Dwalin added.

“Hunting would be easier with better visibility.” Kíli offered.

“Hunting would better as there is nothing in the forest to hunt.” Beorn said.

“Nothing?” Gandalf asked.

“Nothing, unless something has wandered in. Nothing lives there other than the spiders, now.” Beorn replied.

“And what of fresh water?” Dori asked.

“There is no fresh water in the forest, until you reach Forest River, itself.” Beorn went on to explain. “Using the path from the Forest Gate, the first stream you would reach is tainted water, one touch of it is enough to put you in an enchanted sleep. The poison from the spiders’ nest, at the stream’s wellspring, is responsible.”

“If they stayed on the path-” Gandalf began only to be cut off, again.

“There is no path, it leads nowhere now. Nowhere, except straight into the trap laid by elves.” Beorn told them. “The bridges are destroyed and the creek crossing dug out, the only place to cross the Enchanted Stream is controlled by the elves.”

“Blast.” Bofur huffed.

“Aye.” Gloín nodded. “Going via the East-West Road or around to the north are sounding better by the second.”

“They are.” Thorin nodded. “If we were to go south to the Road, we have would access to waystations and traveller’s inns.”

“But it would also draw attention. A party as large and as diverse as ours, would draw many eyes.” Balin warned.

“If we were to go north around the forest, there’s no settlements, no taverns, no waystations. We’d be completely dependent on hunting and foraging for food.” Bilbo said. What was in the puches was for after reaching Erebor, not for the journey there.

“To the north there are herds of wild sheep and goats.” Beorn advised. “There is also the remains of a village of men, not long abandoned, where the river meets the forest, on the east of the river. It’s been nearly a year, since I was there last, but it would provide shelter, if you need it.”

“Abandoned, you say?” Thorin asked.

“Yes, five years ago, the river flooded. The settlement itself is high enough to not be inundated, but the river’s swelling meant that access to and from it, was blocked for nigh on a year. The settlers were too wary to return.”

“They just left?” Bilbo asked.

“They did.” Beorn nodded. “The elven patrol warned them, it gave them enough time to escape but they took little more with them than what they could carry. They were given the choice of going to Laketown or to the Waystation at Old Ford, where the Road crosses the Anduin River.” Beorn reached for a great jug of milk. “They chose the Waystation, Thranduil wouldn’t let his elves assist them. The patrol that warned them, were punished for leaving the forest, at all.”

“Even to save lives?” Ori whispered.

“It was a patrol of six, two accepted their punishment, the other four objected. Of them, two were killed in attempting to escape the Halls and the forest, one fell before leaving the forest and the other was brought here to me but died from his wounds a few days later. The two that survived, fled south, they planned to beg mercy from the White Elf. I know not whether they reached safety or not.”

“This is how you know that Thranduil will not allow his elves to leave the forest.” Gandalf stated.

“It is.” Beorn poured milk into large mugs and passed them around the table. “If you go north, I will give you supplies to carry with you.”

“But we have no packs or weapons.” Bofur argued. “We have only a single weapon each and what we’re wearing.”

“I have plenty of leather, when my animals die, I have processed their hides. If you are able to make bags, I will give you what supplies I can spare.” Beorn offered.

“I can sew.” Kíli held up a hand.

“As can I.” Dori nodded.

“And me.” Bofur banged his fist on the table.

“And me.” Dwalin laid his hand out in front of him.

“Stitching leather is little different to skin.” Oín added, laying his hand alongside Dwalin's.

“I still have my pack.” Bilbo said. “We can use that to get a pattern from. It’s a little small for you lot, but we can enlarge it, I think.”

“I have some chalk, you can use that to draw your designs.” Beorn added.

“I thank you.” Thorin nodded regally to the skin-changer. “We will happily accept your offer. Tomorrow we will start on new packs and preparing what supplies you give us. We will go north, the settlement is abandoned, we may be lucky and find weapons, there. If nothing else it will give us somewhere to rest a few days, before we travel the last leg of our journey.”

Before they could continue, there was a tapping at a door.

All turned towards the door.

“Are you expecting guests, Master Beorn?” Thorin asked.

“No, I am not.” But Beorn climbed to his feet and strode over to the door. He opened it and frowned. “Yes…?” He asked, his voice a growl.

“Good evening, Master Beorn.” Came a vaguely familiar voice. “Would it be possible to speak with Master Baggins?”

“Legolas Greenleaf?” Thorin called.

“Aye...?” Came the hesitant answer.

“Get in here, elf.” Thorin demanded before turning to Beorn. “If you don’t mind, Master Beorn?”

Beorn said nothing but he opened the door and a pair of elves walked in. A tall blond male and a female, only slightly shorter, with vibrant red hair.

“Legolas Greenleaf and Tauriel Firelily.” Thorin huffed. “I wasn’t expecting to see you, here.”

“No, Thorin Oakenshield, I dare say, you were not.” Legolas came to a halt in front of Thorin. “But here we are.”

The two elves exchanged looks and both went to one knee.

“Our blades are yours, King of Erebor.” They spoke together. “Command us as you will.”

“Dís is going to kill me.” Thorin muttered looking from Kíli to Tauriel, back Kíli and then to Bilbo.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli is a sneaky dwarf but so is Thorin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield

_“Legolas Greenleaf and Tauriel Firelily.” Thorin huffed. “I wasn’t expecting to see you, here.”_

_“No, Thorin Oakenshield, I dare say, not.” Legolas came to a halt in front of Thorin. “But here we are.”_

_The two elves exchanged looks and both went to one knee._

_“Our blades are yours.” They spoke together. “Command us as you will.”_

_“Dís is going to kill me.” Thorin muttered looking from Kíli to Tauriel, back Kíli and then to Bilbo._

Gandalf looked from hobbit to dwarf to elf, hesitant to leave them but the warning that Beorn had given him in regard to the High Fells of Rhudaur, filled his mind with worry.

“You must go where the Valar demand, Tharkûn.” Thorin said.

“We will lead the Company to the Windrock settlement.” Legolas said, earning himself a few dark looks from some of the dwarves.

“You know of it?” Gandalf asked, tying the bag of supplies to the saddle of the horse that Beorn was lending him.

“We do.” Tauriel nodded. “We were given the task of… retrieving the patrol, after they… left the Halls.”

“One of them died from his injuries.” Gandalf frowned.

“We know, it was not gained at our hands.” Legolas explained. “We had hoped that all of them would escape.”

“Telomar and Shelkin had family that would not leave the Halls, they accepted Thranduil’s punishment without question.” Tauriel said.

“Ringwë, Tellayen, Lirilla and Sendarion had planned to return to the Halls only long enough, to fetch a few personal items.” Legolas said. “They had planned their escape, down to supplies and horses to be held at the East-West Road Waystation.”

“Not all of them made it.” Tauriel let a tear slide down her cheek. “Ringwë and Sendarion are gone, never to sail West.”

Bilbo came forward and laid a gentle hand on her arm.

“I do not know if Tellayen and Lirilla reached Lothlorien.” Legolas went on. “But they left nothing at the Waystation. Father sent me to find them and I was able to honestly say that if they had been there, they were long gone, the taint and tracks of Men obscuring any chance of tracking them. Father was… not happy.”

“It took Legolas nigh on half a year to recover from Thranduil’s **_chastisement_**.” Tauriel nearly spat the last word.

“He raised a hand to you?” Thorin growled.

“Worse.” Tauriel said. “He ordered that Legolas' own patrol administer his chastisement.”

“And you fared little better, [gwethel](sister).” Legolas muttered.

“Your own patrol?” Thorin’s growl deepened. “They beat you?”

“They tied us to posts, beat and whipped us.” Tauriel whispered.

Thorin exchanged looks with Bilbo.

“We will discuss this more, later. For now, Tharkûn? You said you were leaving us?”

“I fear that I must.” Gandalf said. “The necromancer must be dealt with.”

“Give an offering to the Valar, you may need their blessing.” Thorin advised. “If you do not, you have spent little but a few minutes, if you do, it may save your life.”

Gandalf looked at Thorin and hummed.

“There is a Garden where the Ninglor meets the Anduin.” Legolas offered.

“If you have never left the forest, how do you know?” Gandalf demanded, reaching to settle his suddenly fractious horse.

“I never said that I have not left the forest.” Legolas smirked. “I said, my father never **_approved_** of me leaving the forest.”

Thorin barked a laugh. “We’ll make a dwarf of you yet, Greenleaf.”

“I don’t doubt that for one moment, Uzbad Thorin.” Legolas dipped his head in amusement, before turning back to Gandalf. “An offering to the Valar is never wasted.”

“No, it is not.” Gandalf nodded. “I will away to the south. Do not enter the mountain without me, Smaug is not the only danger.”

“I am aware.” Thorin nodded.

Gandalf studied Thorin for a few moments before nodding and turning to their host. “Master Beorn, I thank you for your hospitality and assistance. I shall release your horse before I reach the Anduin River.” He turned to the rest of the Company, where they were unobtrusively listening in. “Stay safe, take no unnecessary risks. I will meet you at the mountain, as soon as I can.” He looped the reins over the head of the horse beside him. “May the Valar watch over you.” He mounted and turned the horse south, encouraging it to a canter within a few strides.

“Balin, Dwalin, Gloín.” Thorin called out the names. “I would speak with you on family matters. Come with me.”

Thorin lead the three out of the garden and through a gate in a meadow. The Company watched as the four talked, it was clear that there was an argument in the offering, but none of them knew what it was about. The discussion went on for many minutes but finally, an agreement must have been reached.

“Legolas, Tauriel, Bilbo, Kíli. Come.” Thorin’s voice reached them. The four who were called, exchanged looks and shrugged, before making their way to where Thorin sat. “Pull up a log, we have much to discuss.”

Bilbo settled beside Thorin, while Tauriel and Legolas folded themselves up onto the ground, Kíli rolled a log over and completed the circle.

“We need a way to protect Tauriel and Legolas from Thranduil.” Thorin started. “We will not leave them to his… **_mercies_** , again.”

“No.” Kíli shook his head, sparing only a glance for the redheaded elf.

“Definitely not.” Bilbo added.

“We’ve come up with something that we believe may work.” Balin said.

“It’s odd and not a little strange, but it should work.” Gloín added.

“What have you done?” Bilbo growled at Thorin.

“I have **_done_** nothing, I merely offered a way around Thranduil.” Thorin objected.

“What way?” Bilbo’s eyes narrowed.

“Betrothals.” Gloín said.

Bilbo’s head snapped around. “Betrothals?”

“Betrothals.” Gloín nodded. “In times of Olde, betrothals between nations were not uncommon.”

“Not so much between nations but between members of the ranking families of those nations.” Balin explained. “It was an unofficial form of treaty. When a ruler was unable, be-it for political or religious reasons, to sign a treaty, they would often-times betrothe one of their children to those of a foreign power.”

“And you think this might work?” Bilbo asked.

“It should.” Balin nodded. “It allows Thranduil to keep face, it makes him look benevolent to his people and it means that we can set up conditions to a contract that will keep Legolas and Tauriel away from the forest. It also means that Thranduil can banish them, without an actual banishment.”

“In what way?” Kíli asked.

Balin ticked off a number of items as he spoke. “We can state that Legolas and Tauriel are to be housed as members of the royal family of Erebor. That they will be given positions of authority within the mountain. That they will not return to the forest, unless on official duties for Erebor. It will cement Legolas and Tauriel as ambassadors in the eyes of the elves of the forest. It will show Thranduil’s people that while he won’t publicly support Erebor, acting on the quiet is another matter.”

“That is not quite correct.” Legolas objected.

“No, it’s not, but the average elf of Mirkwood wouldn’t know that, now would they?” Balin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, they wouldn’t.” Legolas conceded.

“It remains for you to tell us, to whom you think we should be contracted.” Tauriel wanted to know.

“We’ve talked this through and… well… there aren’t a lot of options.” Balin had the grace to look embarrassed. “There are few of marrying age within the royal family.” He refused to look at Kíli or Thorin. “Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Gimli, Razdâna and Talitha are all we have.”

“And Talitha is already betrothed.” Kíli reminded Balin.

“Aye, lad, that she is.” Balin nodded.

“Thorin is out.” Dwalin huffed. “No dwarf would accept our king marrying an elf, whether for love, political or otherwise. It jest won’t be accepted.”

“No, it would not.” Balin went on. “So that rules Fíli out as well. He will be king after Thorin.”

“He will.” Thorin nodded.

“That leaves Kíli, Gimli and Razdâna.” Balin said.

“And who are they?” Tauriel asked. “Who are their parents? Will there not be objections?” Being betrothed to Kíli would be... joyous. A Gift from the Valar. But she would not take her happiness at the cost of Legolas'.

“Kíli is of age, his mother is Thorin’s sister and while she may object, she won’t take it out on you or Kíli.” Dwalin answered.

“She won’t take it out on anyone.” Thorin said. “Dís is a daughter of Durin, she will understand the political manoeuvres we make, she may not like it, personally, but she will support it, all the same. She will understand what we seek to achieve, here.”

“And the other two?” Tauriel asked.

“Gimli and Razdâna are Gloín’s children. Neither are of age, Gimli is sixty-two and Razdâna is fifty-one.” Balin replied.

“When do they come of age?” Legolas asked. ' _So young_...' He thought in the privacy of his mind.

“Dwarves come of Age at seventy-five.” It seemed safe to say that Balin was to be the speaker for most of this discussion. “It is only two years since Kíli reached his majority. Gimli will be another thirteen years, until his and Razdâna another twenty-four.”

“A fifteen-year courtship is unusual but not unknown, in elven society, but a twenty-four-year courtship is not possible.” Legolas said, an expression of calculation on his face. “I would suggest Tauriel and prince Kíli, if neither of them object. Tauriel is but a guard in my father’s guard, her betrothal is simple, her marriage can happen without political fanfare.”

“But you are your father’s son. Would it not be a better suit, that you would wed the prince?” Gloín asked.

“No, it would indicate a degree of my father’s distaste for my actions, a punishment if you will, to betroth me to a… lesser… rank, while a silvan guard becomes a princess.” Legolas corrected.

“And let us be honest, here, Gimli has yet to show interest in a wife or a husband, while Kíli, as a prince would be required to sire children.” Dwalin added.

“Halfblood children?” Gloín asked.

“You want to tell Dís that Kíli is not giving her grandchildren?” Dwalin snorted. “And halfblood or not, they will be of the line of Durin. The fact that these two rejected Thranduil and chose to offer allegiance to Thorin will also go a long way to placating the masses.”

“You have a point, brother.” Balin grimaced.

“And it would further punish me by putting me in a position where I will not father children of my own. And father will not have to suffer me presenting him with half-dwarven children.” Legolas added.

“More relevant points.” Balin said. “Then Kíli and Tauriel will be contracted.”

“Kíli and Tauriel are both of age, let them decide.” Bilbo objected. He wasn’t really objecting, he knew that the pair were smitten with each other and would be happy together, while Legolas and Gimli had been visitors to Rivendell, before Bilbo sailed West. Frodo had told him that the pair had been quite enamoured but denied their affections due to the political upheavals the war had left in its wake.

“Question?” Kíli asked.

“Yes, lad?”

“If Thranduil would punish Legolas by putting him in such a position, would he not push for it to be Thorin, that Legolas weds? It would say to his people that this is his son, a prince of Elves, to marry him to a dwarven king is to acknowledge his position in elven life, but it sends a personal message to Thorin, of ‘I’m sending only outcasts’.”

“It may be…”

“I think it would be best to lock Thorin to a contract, too. Not to one of the elves, though.” Kíli suggested.

“To whom would he be contracted, there is…” Balin trailed off. “Oh, well done, laddie, well done.” He smiled

“What?” Legolas frowned. “What am I missing?”

“When did you actually become [Uzbadya Imrikh](royal%20shield), Bilbo?” Balin asked bluntly.

“You heard me give the oath.” Bilbo hedged.

“I heard you give **_an_** oath and you didn’t answer my question. When did you actually give your oath?” Balin squinted at the hobbit.

Bilbo turned to Thorin. “Well?”

“The 8th of April 2939, in Bree. Dwalin was the witness.” Thorin said, answering both Bilbo and Balin.

“Two years ago?” Balin blinked. “How long have you known each other?”

“That is very complicated, Balin, I would prefer not to have to calculate an answer to that until Erebor is returned to us.” Thorin replied.

“Well, it works in our favour, now.” Kíli said. “Contract Uncle and Bilbo. Backdate it to the night before we left Hobbiton. If we do, it rules Thorin out as far as Tauriel and Legolas' contracts are concerned.”

“It does.” Thorin looked at Bilbo and raised an eyebrow, asking an unvoiced question.

“Oh shut up…” Bilbo glared at Thorin. “You know better.”

“Of course, my burglar.” Thorin’s smile was small but it was honest.” He turned back to Balin. “Draw up a contract between Bilbo and myself, but do it in pencil, be prepared to made changes, he’s a stiff negotiator.”

“Excellent.” Balin smiled. “I’ll see that it’s done as soon as we decide on the other two contracts.” 

“Tauriel and I.” Kíli gave the she-elf a smile. “We can made this work.” He assured her.

“We can.” She nodded.

“And you, Legolas?” Gloín asked, half-resigned that the elf would be his son-in-law

“Gimli, if you please, Master Gloín.” Legolas answered. “I would not deny your daughter her children, to date I have had as little interest in a husband or wife as your son has, it would not be fair.”

“And what of my son, should he wish to father a child?” Gloín asked.

“I would encourage and support him in choosing a dwarf lady, who would bear our child.” Legolas said.

“Then I give my consent.” Gloín nodded. “My son, Gimli, shall be betrothed to Legolas, son of the Woodland king Thranduil.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas and Thorin finally get a chance to talk.  
> Bilbo gives a gift to the Valar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mithlond = Grey Havens

_“Draw up a contract between Bilbo and myself, but do it in pencil, be prepared to made changes, he’s a stiff negotiator.”_

_“Excellent.” Balin smiled. “I’ll see that it’s done as soon as we decide on the other two contracts.”_

_“Tauriel and I.” Kíli gave the she-elf a smile. “We can made this work.” He assured her._

_“We can.” She nodded._

_“And you, Legolas?” Gloín asked, half-resigned that the elf would be his son-in-law_

_“Gimli, if you please, Master Gloín.” Legolas answered. “I would not deny your daughter her children, to date I have had as little interest in a husband or wife as your son has, it would not be fair.”_

_“And what of my son, should he wish to father a child?” Gloín asked._

_“I would encourage and support him in choosing a dwarf lady who would bear his child.” Legolas said._

_“Then I give my consent.” Gloín nodded. “My son shall be betrothed to Legolas, son of the Woodland king Thranduil.”_

Gloín sighed as he signed the betrothal agreement. “Birza is going to kill me.” He muttered.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Gloín. I’ll have Dís talk to her.” Thorin slapped him on the shoulder as he laid down his quill.

“But an **_elf?!”_** Gloín whined.

“Better an elf than a Man, at least young Gimli won’t be watching his husband grow old.” Bilbo reminded the redhead.

“No fading for your son.” Thorin added.

“That is true.” Gloín brightened.

“And if they do decide to have children, the elf will always be there to watch over them.” Thorin went on.

“True.” Gloín brightened even more.

“And think how much it will irk Thranduil to know that his son is wed to dwarf.” Bilbo said slyly.

“Yes…” Gloín stood up straight and pulled his shoulders back. “And the boy is a warrior, those blades aren’t for decoration, no matter how pretty they are.” Gloín had almost allowed himself to believe the betrothal might not be a bad thing, after all. “How are the packs coming along?” The last question was directed at Bilbo.

“Just attaching the last of the tie-down straps.” Bilbo replied. “They’re bigger than I’d expected, but for you lot, that’s not a bad thing. We’ve also made up a heap of drawstring bags, to carry grain, flour and the like, in, we can hang them from the packs or our belts. Beorn has also given us a pile of waterbags, too. Enough for each of us to be able to have one.” Bilbo didn’t say that while he’d laid one on each dwarf’s new pack, he’d also filled all of the spare ones and shoved them into Kíli’s Valar-Gifted pouch. “Clothes are going to be the hardest to replace, though.”

“I’m hoping that the Men’s settlement… What was it called, again?” Gloín asked.

“Windrock.” Bilbo answered.

“Right, Windrock, Windrock, Windrock.” Gloín muttered the name a few times before speaking clearly. “I’m hoping that… Windrock, has some clothes in still wearable condition. Beorn said that the Men left with only what they could carry.”

“He did.” Bilbo nodded.

“Length is really the only main difference between Men’s clothes and a dwarf’s.” Gloín explained. “Style, too, but beggars cant’ be choosers. I’d rather have a Man’s cast-off clothes than walk around naked.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Bilbo laughed. “We can only hope, Gloín. Clothes, weapons and some foodstuffs.”

In the six days it too them to reach Windrock, Legolas and Tauriel found their places in the Company. Legolas, Tauriel and Kíli were warmly greeted each evening, when they returned from their hunts. Tauriel surprised them all with her knowledge of metalworking, her father having been a smith before his death and she, his apprentice. Upon his death Thranduil had decided that she would enter the Gaurd, instead of sending her to Rivendell to complete her apprenticeship. And Legolas, of course, was a prince and he had been educated as one, his understanding of the political geography of the world was quite detailed.

Neither Thorin nor Bilbo were able to get one of the elves alone, until the fifth night, when Legolas was on watch before Thorin.

“Thorin.” The elf carefully prodded the dwarf king awake.

“…hmmf…” Thorin dragged himself from his warm net.

“All is quiet.” Legolas assured him.

“Good…” Thorin yawned. “Can you…” another yawn, “… stay awake to talk with me…?”

“I can.” Legolas said. “I have been waiting to do so.”

“Good.” Thorin nodded. “Let’s go to that tree stump.” He pointed at a tree, shattered by lightening, it was only a few yards from the fire, but should provide them a little privacy to talk, as long as they were quiet about it.

“Here.” Legolas handed him a waterskin.

“Thank you.” Thorin took the skin and unstoppered the spout. “How is it you are here, remembering us?”

“I do not know.” Legolas frowned. “I had sailed west with… What do you know of what happened after Erebor and the battle?”

“I know about the War. We watched your journey from the Halls of Mahal.” 

“Then you know of my attachment to Gimli?”

“Of course. Why else would I have suggested the betrothals? You and Tauriel don’t really need the protection, your swearing allegiance to Erebor was enough for that.” Thorin smirked, earning himself a chuckle from the elf.

“You should know, then, that I sailed West with Gimli and Tauriel, when he was reaching the end of his days.” Legolas stated. “We sailed from [Mithlond](Grey%20Havens) but Gimli was never to see Valinor. Tauriel and I talked it over for many days, before we took action, but the thought of never seeing Gimli or Kíli, of knowing that they would be forever barred from us, was too much to endure. We took heavy sleeping potions and cracked the boat’s hull, causing a small leak that would slowly flood the hull and sink the boat. We went to sleep under the merciless sun of the Western Ocean and woke to the cool breezes of the lower caverns of my father’s Hall.”

“Huh…”

“It was a number of days before we realised that the other remembered.” Legolas went on. “Once we did it was a simple thing to make our plans. My father thinks that my patrol are on duty to the East Bight, while my patrol think that Tauriel and I have been detached to the Road Waystation.”

“Smart.” Thorin grunted.

“But we were camped just inside the forest, nearest Beorn’s, so that we might know of your arrival. We were not sure that any of you would remember, but when you said our names, we knew that we were not alone.”

“That’s why you swore yourselves to Erebor?” Thorin's curiosity forced him to ask.

“No, we did that for different reasons.” Legolas corrected. “Tauriel sees Erebor as her home, she lived there in the shadow of the gate for decades, watching over those that were family to Kíli. I saw what was left of Erebor after the war, Mordor almost razed the mountain to its roots, Dale was no more and Laketown was never more than a few floating huts, again. I have always wondered what would have happened to Erebor if it had not been left to Dáin to lead.”

“Dáin is a fine dwarf.” Thorin argued.

“He is, but his heart is in the Iron Hills, not Erebor. You are the heart of Erebor, as far as your people are concerned.” 

“I-”

“Even Dáin called you his king, you cannot deny this.” Legolas argued back.

“No, I suppose not.” Thorin sighed. “As for **_it_** …” The word was sneered. “Bilbo collected it as he did before. He also has a plan for ridding us of it.”

“Yes?” Legolas leant forward, eagerly.

“The Valar seem to like him.” Thorin smothered a laugh. “At Bag End, the night before we left? Bilbo left a bowl of candies for them. The candy vanished… while he watched…” Legolas gasped. “Exactly. Bilbo thinks that if he can find an altar to the Valar somewhere, that he can leave… **_it_** … for them to collect. No war to be had.”

“Oh, my…” Legolas whispered.

“We’re hesitant to rely on it, though. One should not expect the Valar to be at their beck and call. But in this instance, we hope that the Valar would understand our actions and respond accordingly.” Thorin admitted.

“We can only hope.” Legolas replied.

The village was surrounded by a wall of timber posts. After much searching, they found a place where one post was weakened and they attacked it, furiously with Dwalin's war axe, heedless of his bemoaning the blunting of it. A half hour’s work and they had a space that Bilbo could just barely squeeze through.

“If Kíli were to fire an arrow, with a rope attached to it, over the gate and Bilbo were to go through and pull the rope over, we could attach a heavier rope to the gate bars and pull them free.” Legolas suggested.

“It would let us get the gate open enough to get in and if need be, we could replace the bars while we were in the village.” Balin added.

“Why Kíli?” Ori asked.

“His bow is different to ours, we can’t control where an arrow goes if we don’t fire at full strength, whereas Kíli’s bow is designed to be allowed to be fired, at different pull-strengths.” Tauriel replied.

“Ah, thank you, that makes sense.” Ori nodded.

“Elven archers tend to prefer to work at a distance, while dwarven archers … if there _**is**_ such a thing, other than Kíli… prefer to be in closer proximity.” Legolas offered. “Our weapons are designed to enhance the way we fight.”

“Very well.” Thorin nodded. “Kíli will loose an arrow over the gates and Bilbo will use it to pull a heavier rope over, that can be tied off to the gate bars. We will pull them free of the gate…” Thorin paused as something occurred to him. “Bilbo, you’re going to have to tie a second rope to the bars, something that will allow you to pull them back from the gate as we raise them, otherwise, they’re likely to fall right back into the bar-catches.”

“Yes, I had figured that I would use the finer rope, I don’t need to lift the bar, only guide it.” Bilbo added.

“Well, let’s get to work.” Dwalin ordered. “I want to sleep under a roof tonight.”

“Aye.” He was answered by a few of the dwarves.

After gaining entry to the village and the elves doing a rapid reconnaissance for hidden parties, the dwarves, replaced the bars on the gate and went to investigate.

“Bilbo?” Legolas spoke quietly as the two headed down a side alley. “There’s a small shrine temple out along that wall.” He gestured to their left. “About a hundred yards to the right.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Legolas.” Bilbo beamed at the blonde elf. “I’ll go check that out first and see if the Valar will help with the blasted thing. Then I’m going to hunt up the market office, that should tell me where these people keep their stores.”

With that Bilbo gave the elf a pat on the hand and turned on his heel, to head in the direction that Legolas had pointed out. Down a dusty, weed chocked alley and onto an even dustier but weed-free lane and the temple stood out, at the end of the lane. Bilbo carefully entered the temple and made his way to the shrine in the centre of the single room building, where a white stone altar sat atop a small dais.

Bilbo took a few deep breaths and slowly opened his pack, drawing out his Valar-Gifted pouch and the linen-wrapped Ring. He gingerly laid the parcel on the altar and unwrapped the fabric, taking care to not touch the Ring, itself.

“My Lord Tulkas, my Lord Manwë. I give you the Ring of Sauron the Deceiver. I beg that you cleanse this world of its evil.” Bilbo laid a sprig of olive and a stalk of wheat in front of the Ring and stepped back.

Initially he feared that the Valar weren’t going to hear or act on his plea. But as he watched, the two pieces of plant withered and the Ring shimmered. The shimmer grew and an acrid smell filled the temple. The fabric under the Ring began to smoulder and smoke, before a tiny flame burst into life. The flame grew and the wheat burnt, the olive crackled, the oil in it sparking and sizzling. The flame grew larger than should have been possible, given the amount of material to fuel it. But the flames grew.

And grew.

Until they nearly reached the ceiling of the temple. Sharp cracks were heard and slowly the flames began to fall, spluttering and surging. in turns. The flames finally fell and the smoke cleared. The white stone of the altar was gone, along with the dais, leaving a ring of cracked flagstones, behind. In the middle of the burnt dirt was a tiny twig of athelas, it’s even tinier flowers white and sweet smelling.

There was, however, not a hint of gold anywhere to be to be seen and Bilbo sighed in relief. The Valar had taken the Ring.

Before leaving Bilbo placed a small pot of honey where the athelas had been and watched in amusement as the honey vanished, bit by bit. He bowed to the now-empty pot and left the temple, intent on finding the market manager’s office.

Far off to the south, a fire died, and stones began to crumble into sand. The greatest evil know to middle earth was no more, not with a great battle and many deaths but with typically a hobbit-ish understated quiet.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli is cheeky.  
> Some plans are made and more dwarves realise that there's something odd about Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kun = Yes  
> Imrikh - Shield  
> Khî = One (true love)  
> Mikhhal, khulumbujbu = Could be, either.  
> Ata ammâ izrî, ammâ ag za-nê aktub = Unless we ask, we’ll never know.

_There was, however, not a hint of gold anywhere to be to be seen and Bilbo sighed in relief. The Valar had taken the Ring._

_Before leaving Bilbo placed a small pot of honey where the athelas had been and watched in amusement as the honey vanished, bit by bit. He bowed to the now-empty pot and left the temple, intent on finding the market manager’s office._

Reaching the Market’s main storehouse, Bilbo ran into Fíli and Kíli.

“Lads, got a minute?” Bilbo asked. “I want to stash some dried foods in your Valar pouches.”

“Sure, Bilbo.” Kíli nodded.

“Wouldn’t it be a good idea to keep some sort of listing of what’s here? We could send someone to get it afterwards.” Fíli asked.

“I do have the market manager’s last stock listing.” Bilbo said. “I was planning on noting what we took, just in case someone came back. Some stock has gone rotten, of course, we couldn’t expect fresh produce to last five years, but some of the dried produce should still be usable. Certainly the seeds should still be viable for planting.”

“We found a couple of hand wagons, should we be thinking about taking one with us?” Kíli asked.

“Oh, now that’s something I hadn’t considered.” Bilbo blinked. “Perhaps we should just explore, today, and talk it through as a group, this evening. We can pack up anything we agree on, tomorrow and head out the next day.”

“Except for a few extra weapons that we raided from the guardhouse.” Fíli smirked.

“And a couple of changes of clothes.” Kíli added.

“Excellent idea, I’ll keep an eye out for anything hobbit-sized.”

“Didn’t you bring all your clothes?” Kíli asked.

“I did, but the rest of the Company doesn’t know that, yet.” Bilbo reminded the young dwarf.

“Do you plan on telling them?” Fíli asked.

“I do, but not until Smaug is gone and the mountain is ours.” Bilbo told them.

“Before or after you and Uncle marry?” Kíli grinned.

“Ooh, you pair…” Bilbo huffed and stomped off, to the princes’ laughter.

A meeting that night had each dwarf, elf and hobbit having a list of items to locate and bring to a central area.

A hand wagon stood in the corner of the barn and small piles of items were laid around it, each pile behind a pack belonging to a member of the Company. Items that they wanted to take, some in their packs and some on the wagon.

The rest of the day passed quickly, with people coming into and out of the barn, all day, laying items down and heading off to find others. The piles grew, to the point that Bilbo knew that there was no way that they could take everything with them.

“Alright.” He said, after dinner when the Company were seated around a firepit in the middle of the barn. “You’ve all had the day to investigate the village and bring back things to take with us. The problem is… you’ve brought back more than you can carry.”

“Aren’t we taking a hand wagon with us?” Ori asked. "Kíli said we were."

“We are… One… I repeat. **_One_** … wagon. It won’t be loaded with just your stuff, you have to share with all of us.” Bilbo reminded the dwarves.

“What if we were to alter a pony cart?” Thorin asked. “All that one,” he pointed at a low sided cart, resting on its shafts, in the shadows of the barn, “would need is another row of side slats and a bar across the shafts.”

“Hmm…” Bilbo stepped out of the light and into the shadows beside the cart. “It seems to be in reasonable shape. Bofur? Would check it over, please? But yes, Thorin, I think that might work. It’d be big enough to carry all our packs, twice over.” Bofur nodded, climbed to his feet and pulled a lamp from off to one side, a burning twig was removed from the firepit and the lamp was lit. He carried it with him as he went to assess the cart.

“So, we’d be able to take more stuff, then?” Nori asked.

“Maybe, I’d want to stock up a little more with food, first. Winter isn’t all that far away.” Bilbo warned. “But if we each still carried our packs, we could make a few more drawstring bags and leave them in the cart.”

“Extra food is always good.” Bombur patted his belly. “I’m in favour of that.”

“But how will we pull the cart if we’re already carrying a pack?” Dori fretted.

“We won’t.” Thorin said. “Whoever is pulling, whoever will be next to pull and whoever was last to pull, will leave their packs in the cart. To give them a break and let them recover, a little.”

“Aye.” Dwalin nodded. “Tha’d work. There’s plenty of leather over there.” He jerked his thumb towards the back of the barn. “An’ we’re all had some practice, making bags. Cutting out drawstring bags won’t take long.”

“How will we know what bag belongs to who?” Fíli asked.

“There’s plenty of rawhide string, we can stitch our sigil on a bag.” Dori offered.

“Or bags…” Balin said. “It depends on how large we make them and how heavy they are.”

“Yes, if the cart collapses half to the mountain, we’re in no better of a situation, than we are now.” Bilbo nodded.

“It will depend on Bofur’s assessment of the carts, then.” Thorin said. “For tonight, let’s rest. Bofur can finish his assessments, tomorrow, while the rest of us look at making more bags and bringing the food stuffs, here to the barn.”

“Yeah…” Bofur re-joined them. “It’s hard to tell in lamplight, but I’m not too sure about that first cart. There are a couple of others to check out, though.”

“And I saw a second barn, over near the east wall.” Legolas said. “I didn’t look passed the fact that it wasn’t used for food storage. There might be a wagon or cart, in it.”

“In the morning.” Thorin said. “For now, let’s get some rest.” He stood and moved over beside Bilbo, slotting into the space between the hobbit and his nephews.

Two hours later, Bombur nudged his cousin awake.

“Your watch…” The rotund cook said quietly and handed over a mug of steaming soup.

“[Kun](yes)…” Bifur accepted the mug and took a cautious sip, he didn’t want to burn his mouth on hot liquid.

“Bif…?”

“[Kun](yes)…?”

“The hobbit?” Bombur asked, his voice almost silent.

“[Kun](yes)…?”

“I didn’t think hobbits were…” Bombur hesitated. “He speaks Khuzdul, as well as a dwarf.”

“Kun.” Bifur nodded.

“He speaks like a Durin.” Bombur said. “Like a prince.”

“He’s the closest the hobbits have to a prince.” Dwalin muttered from his position near them.

“He’s what?” Bombur asked.

“His grandfather was the Thain, the leader of the Shire, for over seventy years.” Dwalin answered. “An Uncle took on the position for a few years and now one of the [imrikh’s](shield%E2%80%99s) cousins ‘as the job. I heard tell, that the [imrikh](shield) was being considered but he refused the offer.”

“Too little excitement?” Bombur asked.

“I dain’t know.” Dwalin shrugged. “It were only mentioned in passing, by a couple of hobbits in Bree, last year.”

“When was he asked?” Bombur wanted to know.

“From what I heard… about three years ago.” Dwalin said.

“About the same time as Thorin started making noises about reclaiming Erebor?” Bombur mused.

“Aye, about then.” 

“Do you think the two might be related?” Dori asked joining them.

“What? Bilbo refusing the post because Thorin’s decided to go after Erebor?” Bombur asked.

“Or Thorin deciding to reclaim Erebor because Bilbo was offered it?” Dori offered.

“Huh…” Dwalin grunted. “Wanting to get the hobbit away before he was locked into a job he couldn’t leave? Thorin isn’t one to sit back and allow another to govern him. Then there’s the fact that until he has a kingdom, he can’t claim a consort, and that Thorin’s not the sort to leave his [Khî](One) behind while he fights for a future, I can see him trying to convince the hobbit to leave his safe little hobbit-hole.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Bombur asked. “Bilbo’s here, not Thain of the Shire.”

“It did.” Dwalin grunted.

“I wonder, which was it?” Dori asked. “Bilbo deciding not to, because of Thorin? Or Thorin deciding to, because of Bilbo?”

“[Mikhhal, khulumbujbu](Could%20be,%20either.).” Bifur muttered. “[Ata ammâ izrî, ammâ ag za-nê aktub](Unless%20we%20ask,%20we%E2%80%99ll%20never%20know.).”

A round of grunts agreed with him.

By mid-morning, Bofur had finished looking over the carts and decided which one was the best suited for their use. He’d taken a reasonably large cart, by dwarfish standards, and swapped out the wheels, for a pair from a larger and lighter cart that was rotting away, and added a push-bar between the shafts.

In the bed of the cart, a series of leather straps divided the bed into twenty-four sections, four across the width of the bed and six down its length. The sections at the front of the cart were tagged with each person’s individual sigil, while the sections to the rear were for food and communal items, like cauldrons, or pots and pans and the water barrel. Two sections were filled with just weapons and arrows.

Much to his annoyance, it was quickly discovered that Bilbo wasn’t able to pull the cart, he simply wasn’t large enough. Instead, he was relegated to scouting ahead, with the elves and assisting Bombur with meals. Likewise, Bombur and the elves were also removed from cart pulling. It was hardly fair, that they scout for hours and still have to pull the cart, while with Bombur it was feared that pulling may put too much strain on his heart, given his size and anyway, he spent far more than an allotted pulling time, preparing their meals.

Four days they spent in Windrock, fixing the cart and preparing bags to go in their allocated spaces. In addition to this, they also planned a return journey to empty the village of anything that would be useful to them, in the redevelopment of Erebor. Items that would be fetched as soon as the mountain was theirs and Azog had been dealt with.

Legolas sent a messenger to his father, with copies of the betrothal agreements between he and Gimli as well as that of Tauriel and Kíli. Included was a statement from Thorin, advising of the change of management of Erebor and that he apologised (Bilbo insisted he use that word) for the delay in the completion of his commission, circumstances outside the control of the current King Under the Mountain were responsible, but that he was hopeful of having the commission completed prior to the spring solstice and thanking him for his patience.

Thorin glared at Bilbo darkly for another day, before sighing and sending a second message, inviting Thranduil to meet to discuss terms of a treaty between Erebor and Eryn Galen, citing their proximity and enemies as common ground. Legolas assured Thorin that if Thranduil sent a message in return, it would be brought by a scout to the edge of the forest and as they still some two-hundred-and-fifty miles before they left the edge of the forest, there was time for Thranduil to regain his composure before replying.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters from Thranduil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gloínul. = Gloín's son

_Legolas sent a messenger to his father, with copies of the betrothal agreements between he and Gimli as well as that of Tauriel and Kíli. Included was a statement from Thorin, advising of the change of management of Erebor and that he apologised (Bilbo insisted he use that word) for the delay in the completion of his commission, circumstances outside the control of the current King Under the Mountain were responsible, but that he was hopeful of having the commission completed prior to the spring solstice and thanking him for his patience._

_Thorin glared at Bilbo darkly for another day, before sighing and sending a second message, inviting Thranduil to meet to discuss terms of a treaty between Erebor and Eryn Galen, citing their proximity and enemies as common ground. Legolas assured Thorin that if Thranduil sent a message in return, it would be brought by a scout to the edge of the forest and as they still some two-hundred-and-fifty miles before they left the edge of the forest, there was time for Thranduil to regain his composure before replying._

Bilbo looked at Legolas and nodded his head fractionally, in the direction of the forest.

“I see them.” Legolas agreed.

Tauriel snorted, quietly. “I think even orcs could seen them.” She muttered.

“Likely.” Legolas agreed. “Shall we go and see what they want? Or do we wait for the Company?”

“We go.” Bilbo stood up and began to walk towards the pair of elves standing a few feet out from the tree-line.

“If you get hurt, your betrothed is going to kill us.” Tauriel muttered.

“If I get hurt, your betrothed is going to be just as angry as mine.” Bilbo snarked back as the trio walked closer.

“Legolas Greenleaf?” Asked one of the elves.

“I am.” Legolas nodded.

“We bear a message for you, from the king.” The elf handed over a rolled-up sheet of parchment, sealed in gold wax with the Royal Seal.

“Thank you.” Legolas accepted the scroll and stepped back.

“We are to wait for a reply.” The second elf said.

“Then I shall read it and compose a response.”

“That would be appreciated.” The first elf stepped back into the shadows of the trees, closely followed by the second elf. “We will remain here for the night.”

“As you wish.” Legolas nodded to them and retreated silently.

“I wonder what Thranduil has to say.” Tauriel muttered almost silently to Bilbo.

“Not sure it’s going to be good.” Bilbo replied.

“We shall soon see.” Legolas said reminding them both that his hearing was as good as any elf’s.

A few minutes later, the trio joined the Company and signalled a halt.

“My father sent a message by his scouts.” Legolas told them.

“What does he say?” Thorin asked.

“I don’t know yet.” Legolas replied. “I have not opened it, I felt it better to warn you first.”

“Our thanks.” Thorin nodded regally.

“Read it, Legolas. Now. ” Tauriel ordered.

Legolas made no reply, but he sat down on a stone and after taking a deep breath, cracked the wax seal on the scroll, extracting a second, smaller sheet of parchment. His eyes flicked quickly as he read what was written the larger and clearly official document, his body tensing and hurt twisting his lips. He opened the smaller sheet and quickly read it, sighing, he let his shoulders relax and held the two sheets of parchment out to Bilbo.

Bilbo’s brows rose in question and Legolas nodded, a small smile on his lips, the hurt gone from his face. Bilbo cleared his throat and began to read the official letter out loud, his voice quiet but clear to all those in the Company, even Oín who had finally given up the pretence of his hearing horn.

_From Thranduil, Elvenking of the Woodland Realm_

_To Legolas Greenleaf, Commander of the Woodland Guard_

_It is with great regret that We inform you that you have been released from your duties within the Woodland Realm._

_A betrothal contract has been presented to the Woodland Court and Our Royal Presence. This contract names you as being betrothed to a dwarf, a son of the line of Durin, named as Gimli[Gloín-ul](son%20of%20Glo%C3%ADn). We understand that your betrothal will not progress to marriage until your betrothed reaches his majority. _ _This contract bears your signature, proclaiming your approval of the terms of within the contract. Our finest scholars have reviewed the contract and can find no methods of extrication or of voiding said contract. You are bound to the dwarf for as long as he lives and to Erebor for as long as you live._

_While We do not approve of contracting to marry as dwarf, we allow that you are an adult elf and you have the right to marry as you wish._

_Further to this, We are informed that to enter into this contract, you have forsaken the orders that were imparted to you and exited the borders of the Woodland Realm, in direct disregard of Our standing orders and encouraged elves under your command, to do the same._

_Such action would, not long ago, have prompted Us to declare you forsaken and banished from Our Realm. However, new information has come light in regard to Erebor and the throne of the King Under the Mountain. As such, We have been advised that banishment is not recommended and instead, We remove from you all official titles and duties that have been yours, to date._

_If you wish to visit your father and those that you call friend, you may do so. However, We have been advised to limit the length of time that you may sojourn within Our lands. Thus, We state that you may be within Our borders for no longer than fourteen days and nights, unless on official duties assigned to you by the King Under the Mountain of Erebor._

_These prohibitions and permissions apply to any in circumstances that are commensurate with your own._

_The Crown will not approve or condone the actions that you have taken but a father’s love can and will overlook many things. Your situation has been presented to Our Court by your father and he pleaded for leniency to be granted to you. His reasoning of your actions and his obvious affection for you, swayed Our Court to allow the leniencies as stated above._

_Written by My hand_

_Thranduil Elvenking_

Bilbo swapped sheets and kept reading.

_My Son_

_I am sorry that you felt the need to act in the way that you have, but I understand. I have spoken with Lady Galadriel and she has given me warnings of things to come, that make you actions understandable._

_You and Tauriel, who will eventually receive her own official dismissal, have acted out of affection. Affection for Eryn Galen and affection for your betrotheds. As you father, I can ask no greater gift than that my son weds for love and affection._

_As a king, I understand the subtleties of the contract that you signed. As a father, I am relieved that you will be loved and respected by your husband’s people._

_The contract that named Tauriel to wed a prince did, I admit, catch me by surprise. The political nuances behind her position versus your position, can be construed as punishment for leaving the forest, but it also has been commented by members of the court, that it allows you to be underestimated by those who would attempt to manipulate you to their own ends, while Tauriel, a former Captain of the Woodland Guard would be granted a certain amount of caution, as would be expected to be given to one of her skill. I do not disparage your own skills, my son, rather, I would have them overlooked and for you be of little interest to those who seek to bring down the mountain._

_I understand that your allegiance has been transferred to Erebor and I would expect no less, I merely hope that you would look with affection upon our forest, even if it be from a distance._

_I have received a very pretty message from one Thorin Oakenshield, claiming that Erebor is under new management and advising that my commission for your late mother should be complete by spring solstice. In a second, more formal missive, he requested a meeting between us, to formalise a treaty between Erebor and Eryn Galen. Galadriel has Seen that this will happen before the end of the year._

_Warn your betrothed’s would-be-king, Galadriel See’s a pale darkness descending on the mountain in late November, she advises me to lock down my Halls and take every available blade or bow that I can assemble, to the mountain. The timeframe that she has provided allows little time to recruit from outside, but I shall do the best that I can to see the darkness does not swallow your future. Further, she warns that the princes must not, under any circumstances, enter the watch tower, to do so, is to die. The princes must not leave the king and the shield. Only together will they conquer the darkness._

_I know my warnings are little and late, but I have given them as best I can._

_Galadriel has sent gifts, which I will bring with me when I journey to the mountain. A bow for you and an axe for your betrothed, a bow each for Tauriel and her betrothed and for the king and his shield, a pair of daggers made for Ecthelion, Lord of the House of the Fountain. And a message for you and your betrothed, ‘do not forget the nine walkers, prepare places for them, they will come to the mountain, eventually.’ I hope that this makes sense to you, as it does not to me._

_I will also present betrothal gifts, when I see you next, my son. I shall not spoil your reaction by telling you of them, yet._

_Your mother would be so proud of you, she loved you, so very much. More than anything, even life, itself. Live, my son, live and be happy. Look upon my forest with affection but do not think on what could have been, rather think on what you will make the future into._

_I do not have the tongue nor the words to say how much you mean to me but I hope that you know that your mother wasn’t alone in her regard for you. I hope that one day, we can meet as free elves without the past standing between us._

_Your father,_

_Thranduil Oropherion._

Thorin’s eyes widened and instantly sought out Bilbo’s, the hobbit’s eyes were as wide as his.

“A pale darkness…?” Ori whispered.

“Azog…?” Kíli’s voice was no louder.

“It could only be him.” Bilbo said, resignedly. “After all, even Balin described him as a pale orc. And what are orcs but a darkness upon the land?”

“November.” Dwalin said. “Late November, the letter said.”

“Aye.” Balin nodded. “And it’s only early August, yet.”

“We’ve time to prepare the mountain.” Ori smiled.

“We have to deal with a dragon first.” Thorin reminded them.

“It might already be dead.” Dori offered.

“That’s unlikely.” Thorin shook his head. “We have to assume the worst and plan accordingly.”

“He’s right.” Dwalin grunted. “Dragons come first.”

“I must make a response to my father, the king’s scouts await my reply.” Legolas put in. “Then, perhaps an early night so that we may talk and plan?” The last was directed at Thorin and Bilbo.

“Yes.” Thorin nodded. “It’s time to talk.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explanation and a new arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> khî = One (true love)  
> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield

_“We have to deal with a dragon first.” Thorin reminded them._

_“It might already be dead.” Dori offered._

_“That’s unlikely.” Thorin shook his head. “We have to assume the worst and plan accordingly.”_

_“He’s right.” Dwalin grunted. “Dragons come first.”_

_“I must make a response to my father, the king’s scouts await my reply.” Legolas put in. “Then, perhaps an early night so that we may talk and plan?” The last was directed at Thorin and Bilbo._

_“Yes.” Thorin nodded. “It’s time to talk.”_

“Tulkas?” Ori asked, Bilbo finished his tale.

“The Valar Tulkas?” Balin asked.

“Mahal’s brother – that Tulkas?” Gloín asked.

“Tulkas the Valar’s Champion?” Dwalin asked.

“That’s the one.” Bilbo nodded.

“And he just sent you back?” Gloín demanded.

“Oh stars, no!” Bilbo snorted. “I was in the middle of a prank war with my nephew against Lord Elrond's twin sons. One of the other elves, I’ve forgotten who, they weren’t important and sailed west centuries ago. Anyway, one of them made a disparaging remark about hobbits and halflings and us being unworthy of Valinor. Lord Tulkas heard… or was informed… it was never made clear which it was… and he decided to offer me training. For five years I worked with him. I say five years but... years in Valinor are… vague… I know that I trained under him for nearly seventy full moons, I’m guessing that’s somewhere between five and six years or it would here.”

“The Valar trained you?” Legolas gasped.

“But the timing?” Tauriel frowned. “It doesn’t equate.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Bilbo agreed. “Legolas says three of you sailed West one-hundred-and-twenty years after I did. Which is why I said that years in Valinor are vague, for all I know, I could have been with Tulkas for centuries, but it only felt like a few years to me.”

“And what of Frodo?” Legolas asked. “Did he not want to come with you?”

“He did.” Bilbo nodded. “But on the other hand he didn’t. He still felt the pain of being pierced by a morgul blade, he wasn’t fully healed when Tulkas returned me to the main Valinor settlement.”

“But how’s that get you here?” Bofur asked.

“Ah…” Bilbo grimaced. “I made a mistake. We were talking about Frodo and his injury, one day, a large-ish group of us. Elvish wine was being passed around and I had a little more than I should have. I challenged some of them, some to physical challenges, some to academic challenges. But my mistake was challenging Lord Manwë.”

“Lord Manwë?” Tauriel asked, her brows rising in surprise.

“Aye…” Bilbo sighed. “We were talking of Frodo’s injury and I mused that possibly the only way to heal it was to see that it never happened. Somehow, and I’m not sure how, that devolved into challenging Manwë into twisting time’s ear… And I woke up in Bag End on the 1st of April 2939. After breakfast I headed for the Thain’s office and spent three days hashing out a rough plan with him for recovering Erebor, then I headed for Bree and… well… you know from there.”

“And in the time between then and now?” Balin asked.

“Training, training and more training.” Bilbo replied. “My mind remembered using weapons but my body, while reasonably fit and healthy, was completely untrained. I spent that time honing what I knew, Thorin and the lads dropped in occasionally and I had made it quite clear to most of the Shire that my loyalty lay with Thorin, not the Shire. The week before you all filled my hall, I sold my smial to Frodo’s grandfather and great-grandfather. They knew that I was leaving the Shire for good, running off with a dwarf.”

“And what of the… _ring_ …?” Ori whispered.

“I gave it to the Valar, while we were in Windrock.” Bilbo said.

“So, we don’t have to deal with it?” Oín demanded. “It’s gone?”

“Gone. Never to return.” Bilbo nodded. “It took with it, the entire altar and a good portion of the flagstone flooring, too.”

“And you pair?” Gloín asked Legolas.

“We were sailing West, with your son.” Legolas said. “He passed before we reached Valinor, Tauriel and I knew that we would be forever denied the chance to visit Gimli and Kíli in the Halls of Mahal, so we cracked the hull of our boat and took heavy sleeping draughts. We closed our eyes to the Western Sun and opened them to the Halls of the Woodland King.”

“Huh…” Dwalin grunted. “And you lot?” He glared Thorin.

“I was in the Halls of Mahal, I watched the War of the Ring, on Mandos’ Tapestry.” Thorin explained. “While those that watched mourned for the losses, we welcomed those that came to the Halls. Not everyone came to the Halls. For whatever reason, some dwarves didn’t appear in the Halls, that was how we learnt that those that have a [khî](one), it depends on who dies first as to where the dwarf goes. If the dwarf dies first, they go to Mandos’ Hall and then on to Mahal’s Halls. If their [khî](one) dies first, they go wherever their [khî](one) has gone, never to see Mahal’s Halls.”

“But…” Bilbo added. “If their bond has been recognised by Mahal and the dwarf dies first, their [khî](one) will come to them in the Halls. They will be together until Mahal calls us to the Last Battle.”

“Indeed.” Thorin nodded. “We watched the War and waited. Then one night, I dreamt.” Thorin took a deep breath. “I dreamt of meeting Mahal, Himself. He asked me of our quest and wanted to know how I justified my actions? I could give him no satisfactory answers. There were none. He said that Lord Manwë had devised a way to send a being’s consciousness back in time. I volunteered and he nodded. Then I woke up, in Bree, on the 1st of April 2939. The same day as Bilbo woke in Bag End.” He snorted in amusement. “I was woken by Fíli’s tortured gasps and Kíli’s smothered screams. Both were stunned to wake in a building of Men, when we’d been on the flanks of Erebor. All three of us were stunned to be alive, we remembered orc blades ending our lives. We had only one day, before Dwalin was to arrive, to discuss the quest and generate a plan for what was to come. It was a heart stopping shock to walk into the smithy and see Bilbo Baggins arguing with Dwalin over the design of a set of blades.”

“When he said my name, I nearly fainted.” Bilbo huffed.

“Looking back, it t’was funny.” Dwalin chuckled. “The first half of the conversation was jest the two of them saying each other’s names. Then the hobbit, here, drops to a knee and rattles of the Oath of Service for the [Uzbadya Imrikh](royal%20shield). And what does our glorious leader do? He accepts the hobbit’s oath and hands over a dagger, hilt first, as Token of Office.”

“Then what?” Bofur leant forward eagerly.

“Then there were another half dozen words, neither of ‘em finishing a sentence, and the hobbit leans back and yells for Fíli and Kíli. Kíli come crashing down the stairs, his eyes as big as tankards. The hobbit asked after Fíli and when I told Thorin that I’d sent him out to fetch bread and ale, all three of them groaned. Kíli offered to go after his brother, but Bilbo said ‘no’, if he did, Bilbo would have to go and find the pair of them.” Dwalin shrugged. “Bilbo went after Fíli and was back within minutes.”

“And since then?” Balin asked.

“Oh, we’d drop by his hobbit hole every time we went through Hobbiton, or he’d turn up at the smithy when we were in Bree. He’d spar with whoever was there, for a few days and vanish again, turn up and spar a bit more. He designed me new axes and Fíli’s throwing knives. Letters would appear in Bree on a regular basis. Once a week. No idea what they talked about but they weren’t little letters, most of ‘em were three or four pages. Food would turn up at different times. Once, he even sent a load of iron ore for us to smelt. Took us a month to smelt it down, got enough out of it for a decent set of blades for him, a pair of daggers each for the lads and Thorin.”

“A load of iron ore?” Bofur whistled. “That must have cost a pretty penny or two.”

Bilbo smirked. “Pennies weren’t involved.”

“So, what happens from here?” Nori asked. “How do we kill the dragon?”

“That is my task, Master dwarf.” A new voice answered. “However, I would ask that you _**not**_ steal my daughter’s cloak clasp, again, it’s all we have of her mother.”

The Company leapt to their feet and turned to face the intruder, only to have Bilbo start swearing about manipulative Valar and lack of trust.

“Bard Dragonslayer, Lord of Dale.” Thorin bowed to the Man.

“Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.” Bard bowed back. “I brought my Black Arrow, so I hope you have access to a ballista to fire it.”

Legolas bowed his head. “That we do, Master Bowman.” He gestured at the cart and Bard saw the unassembled pieces of the weapon.

“Very well.” The Man nodded. “Get me close enough and I’ll see it goes down, again.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> atheg = little father (sindarin)

_“So, what happens from here?” Nori asked. “How do we kill the dragon?”_

_“That is my task, Master dwarf.” A new voice answered. “However, I would ask that you not steal my daughter’s cloak clasp, again, it’s all we have of her mother.”_

_The Company leapt to their feet and turned to face the intruder, only to have Bilbo start swearing about manipulative Valar and lack of trust._

_“Bard Dragonslayer, Lord of Dale.” Thorin bowed to the Man._

_“Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.” Bard bowed back. “I brought my Black Arrow, so I hope you have access to a ballista to fire it.”_

_Legolas bowed his head. “That we do, Master Bowman.” He gestured at the cart and bard saw the unassembled pieces of the weapon._

_“Very well.” The Man nodded. “Get me close enough and I’ll see it goes down, again.”_

“So… You’re like them?” Ori pointed at Bilbo and Thorin.

“If you mean that I remember living my life, growing old and dying and waking to live my life again. Then, yes. I’m like them.” Bard nodded. “It was an unpleasant shock to wake on my barge, in the shadows of a town I knew to be destroyed by dragon-fire.”

“I can imagine.” Thorin nodded. “These two,” he gestured to Fíli and Kíli, “woke after being killed, knowing nothing of my discussion with Mahal about going back in time.”

“It was awful…” Fíli shuddered. “I still felt the sword in my gut, only there was no sword, just the pain. It took a minute for it to fade before I could open my eyes, then all I saw was the ceiling of what looked like a barn.”

“I was screaming, or I thought I was.” Kíli added. “I was reaching for Tauriel, she was only a few yards away, Bolg had thrown her against the stone steps. Her face faded and Fíli’s replaced it, a gasping Fíli. Fíli was dead, I saw him die but there he was, sitting up in a Man-sized bed scrabbling about undoing his shirt and running his hands over his swordless stomach.”

“I felt the pain of Azog’s blade begin to numb as I said my farewells to Bilbo.” Thorin said. “I apologised for my actions at the gate and his told him to go home, to live a full life. The light faded and Mandos took me to the Halls of Mahal, I greeted my kin, feasted with my father, argued with my brother and together we watched the War of the Ring. But no matter how much I looked for them, I never found Fíli and Kíli. It gave me hope that they had lived, even though I knew that no-one could survive the injuries they received and could not find them with Mahal’s Tapestry. Still, I hoped.” Thorin bowed his head. “Then Mahal came to me in my dreams, talking of Manwë and time. Then I woke, in Bree.”

“Huh…” Dwalin grunted. “That’d be why the lads always kept you in sight, those first few days?”

“Aye.” Kíli nodded.

“We weren't losing him, not again.” Fíli added.

“Now, what?” Ori asked. “We have Master Bard, his Black Arrow and the ballista. What do we do next?”

“We go to Erebor and we kill the beast.” Bard replied.

“We need to get in close enough for you to get the shot.” Gloín frowned. “You only get one shot at a dragon.”

“One’s all I need.” Bard bared his teeth. “I’ve done it before with broken bow, using my son’s shoulder to hold the Arrow. Give me decent ballista and he’ll never know what hit him.”

“Bit vindictive there.” Bofur laughed.

“That beast destroyed my home, my town and nearly took my children from me.” Bard growled. “It killed over a thousand people when it attacked the lake. Not again.”

“Aye, not again.” Thorin nodded.

Quickly, the phrase spread, until Bilbo stood up. “Not again. Never again.”

“Never!” The entire Company, including Bard repeated.

“That’s enough.” Bilbo waved to them. “Rest, tonight, we still have roughly a week’s journey before we reach the mountain. And Legolas?”

“Yes, Bilbo?” The blonde elf looked up from the fire.

“You have a letter to write to your father. I suggest you get to it.”

“Bilbo?”

“Tauriel?”

“Should I write resignation letter, do you think?”

“No, dear.” Bilbo shook his head. “Doing that would weaken your position with Thranduil. Let him make the moves, you don’t need him, you are a future princess of Erebor. He’s a foreigner, albeit a king... but still a foreigner, while you are our princess-to-be.”

“He’s right.” Thorin added. “The moment you swore allegiance to Erebor, he ceased to hold sway over you.”

“Thank you.” Tauriel sighed. “I was dreading the thought of trying to explain my actions.”

“You are our princess, you explain yourself only to your husband, his mother and the King Under the Mountain.” Balin corrected her.

“Excellent.” Bilbo sat down with a pleased sighed. “Legolas, that letter won’t write itself.”

“Yes, [atheg](little%20father).” Legolas smiled at Bilbo to take any sting out of the nickname and dug into a bag on the cart, returning with a scroll of parchment, a bottle of ink and a box containing a quill.

Legolas watched as the two elven scouts faded back into the forest, taking his letter to his father. As they began the return trip to the Elvenking’s Halls, Legolas turned to face the plains that lay to the north of the forest. It was time to hunt, he had sixteen mouths to feed and one of those was a hobbit, the little being ate easily as much as a Man.

Having four archers did help, though, especially when Tauriel spotted a herd of wild sheep. Four sheep were brought down, in seconds. But it was Bilbo that scored the best, a flock of feral farmyard fowls, his hands were nearly a blur as he threw rock after rock at them, knocking over nearly a dozen of the birds, two of them were injured and their necks were quickly snapped. A closer inspection of the area found three nests with eggs not yet hatched, hens still sitting on them.

Legolas quickly ran back to the Company and returned with a bag of leather string and a few skinny saplings, that Bard wove into temporary cages. Tauriel, having told them that there was a creek not that far ahead that had a number of willow trees along its banks, went ahead to cut willow switches, that Bard intended to use to make more substantial cages with. For now, leather and sapling would suffice. The nests were carefully transferred to cages and a hen shoved in with them.

It raised the idea that maybe they could capture a few of the other feral animals. However Bilbo told them to wait until they’d dealt with the dragon, that was more important than trapping animals. But hens and chickens were easy to deal with, a little grain and somewhere secure for them to roost overnight and you have a ready supply of eggs.

Crossing the creek that Tauriel had told them of, was an exercise in complications. The banks of the creek were too steep for the cart to go down, fully loaded, so all the packs had to be removed and carried across. Then the cart had to be lowered to the creek bed, where it was discovered that the creek bed was too rocky for the cartwheels to turn, that meant that the cart had to be lifted and carried across, then dragged up the other side, all without damaging it.

Once the Company and all their possessions were on the eastern side of the creek, Bard suggested they stop for the night, so he could make baskets to hold the hens and their nests. He set Ori, Kíli, Tauriel, Bilbo and Bifur to help Tauriel in cutting him the right size willow switches.

The first cages made were round and were the shape of a squat bottle, these were to house the hens that had been placed on a nest. The rest of the baskets were much larger and of a coarser weave, the birds inside could push their heads out and look around but the weave was too tight for their bodies to push through. All of these were hung from the cart, the nest baskets from a cross beam attached to poles tied to the cart’s front two corners, while the other two baskets hung one to a pole, attached to the rear corners. Each pole had been cut fresh and attached fresh, meaning that even the small weight of the cages and their occupants, caused the poles to flex and bend, this put the cages away from the cart, so that the bird’s mess didn’t fall onto the bags in the cart-bed.

As they watched Bombur carefully smoke out a beehive, Thorin approached Bard.

“Master Bard, it has occurred to me that you have had to make a considerable journey, just to meet us.” Thorin said. "Leaving your children behind."

“Yes.” Bard said. “I left the children with their mother’s mother, as I have often done since my wife died.”

“How did you know to come this way?” Thorin asked. “How did you know that we would not meet you, along the river, again?”

“I listened, Thorin.” Bard said. “I listened and heard of Thranduil’s son leaving the forest. I heard of scouts being sent north to deliver messages and figured that if I remembered, maybe Thranduil’s son remembered. And if that were the case? Was there not a chance that you or Company remembered?” He shrugged. “If I was wrong, I knew that you would turn up at Laketown, eventually.”

“So, you came looking for someone, that you weren’t sure remembered what you remembered but hoped that we did.” Thorin nodded. “On the off chance that we would remember.”

“I had to do something, Thorin.” Bard grumbled. “It was either come after you or go after the dragon by myself and without a ballista? There’s little chance of taking the beast down, alone. I need help and you and yours are the best to provide it.”

“And provide it, we shall.” Thorin assured him.

The trip continued, uneventful and calm. The hunters brough in sufficient game to dry the excess meat and store it in bags in the cart, it could be used in stews and soups once they hit Erebor. Bilbo and Bifur were the main foragers, hunting for roots and herbs to flavour their dinners. Wild plums were spotted by the elves and a small detour was made to raid them, an extra hour or two of walking with the promise of fresh fruit was easily agreed to. A stand of apple trees gave them the prospect of having cider in the future and its location was carefully noted on a map.

Each stream they passed was carefully checked for fish and in two cases, a halt to the day’s travel was called, so that Bofur, Kíli, Thorin, Bilbo and Bard could whip up willow and twine fishing poles. Bass and trout wrapped in straw and baked on flat stones was a treat that was widely appreciated.

Finally the mountain was close, maybe three or four days walk. Thorin lead them directly towards Dale and the mountain’s front gate, knowing that the ruins of the town of Men would give them little defence from the dragon, but it was still more protection than a camp on the side of the mountain and was just as close to an entrance into the heart of the mountain.

As they approached the shattered walls of the town, Legolas spotted smoke issuing from a clump of broken boulders and pointed it out to Thorin. Following the road, they rounded a bend and saw a merry little camp set up against a crack in the town’s wall.

“Took your time, didn’t you?” A young voice called.

“Did you get lost, again?” A second, even younger voice called and two head popped up from the rocks the lined the banks of stream that wound its way through Dale and down to Esgaroth Lake.

“Oh, Mahal save us all…” Balin whispered.

“It’s not possible…” Dwalin whispered.

“I… I… I…” Oín stammered.

“Oh, blast it all…” Gloín muttered.

“What?” Bofur looked from one stunned dwarf to another. “What?”

Thorin studied the two young dwarves, before shaking his head. “Gloín?”

“Aye?” Gloín was glaring at one of the newcomers.

“You deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine.” Thorin muttered, his jaw clenching and his fists tightening.

“Right you are.” Gloín stomped over to one dwarf and grabbed him by a braid. “Come on, Gimli my lad, you’ve some explaining to do.” Legolas followed a squawking Gimli and a muttering Gloín, not even _**trying**_ to smother his amusement.

“Thorin?” Fíli asked as he and Kíli reached Thorin’s side. “What’s the problem?”

“Yes, Thorin?” The remain dwarf asked. “What’s the problem?”

Thorin huffed. “Oh, not much, little brother. If you overlook the fact that you’ve been dead for one-hundred-and-forty-two years and… six months? And that you look exactly as you did, the morning before? Not much at all.”

 ** _“Brother…?!”_** Kíli exclaimed.

“Dís is going to kill someone and it won’t be me, this time.” Thorin snorted.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield  
> irak’adadith = little Uncle

_Thorin studied the two young dwarves, before shaking his head. “Gloín?”_

_“Aye?” Gloín was glaring at one of the newcomers._

_“You deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine.” Thorin muttered, his jaw clenching and his fists tightening._

_“Right you are.” Gloín stomped over to one dwarf and grabbed him by a braid. “Come on, Gimli my lad, you’ve some explaining to do.” Legolas followed a squawking Gimli and a muttering Gloín, not even trying to smother his amusement._

_“Thorin?” Fíli asked as he and Kíli reached Thorin’s side. “What’s the problem?”_

_“Yes, Thorin?” The remain dwarf asked. “What’s the problem?”_

_Thorin huffed. “Oh, not much, little brother. If you overlook the fact that you’ve been dead for one-hundred-and-forty-two years and… six months? And that you look exactly as you did, the morning before? Not much at all.”_

**_“Brother…?!”_ ** _Kíli exclaimed._

_“Dís is going to kill someone and it won’t be me.” Thorin snorted._

**_“Frerin?!”_** Dwalin squawked.

“Yes, cousin?” The young dwarf asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Frerin?” Bilbo tilted his head in confusion. “Uh…? Who’s Frerin?”

“I’m Frerin.” The new blonde dwarf replied. “And I’m this lug’s younger brother.” 

“Younger is right.” Thorin growled. “How… by Durin’s Axe… did you get **_here_**?"

“Um…” For the first time, Frerin looked a little uncertain. “… not all that sure…” He said.

“Really…?” Thorin said blandly, disbelief filling his voice.

“Really.” Frerin nodded, his face falling. “I went to bed one night and the next morning, instead of waking in the Halls… I was beside a campfire and Gimli was on the other side of it. He took one look around and seemed to know where we were, so after a spot of breakfast, we started walking. We reached a funny little town where all the houses were built into the sides of the hills and Gimli lead us to a house up high on a hill. When a halfling opened the door, he asked for a mister Baggins. The halfling… or hobbit, as Gimli tells me, they prefer to be called… said that he was Largo Baggins. Gimli asked after Mr Bilbo Baggins and was told that he’d already left for Erebor and that if we wanted to know more, we would have to go to the Great Smiles of Tuckborough and speak to the Thain.”

“Smials.” Bilbo corrected.

“Sorry, what?” Frerin asked.

“It’s not smiles, it’s smials.” Bilbo explained. “It’s pronounced ‘sm-eye-als’ not ‘sm-eye-ls’. Smials.”

“Oh.” Frerin blinked. “Oh, okay, that sounds more like what he said.”

“So, Largo sent you to speak to Fortinbras?” Bilbo asked.

“He did, but he insisted that we have second breakfast with him.” Frerin nodded energetically. “Hobbits really like second breakfast.”

“They do.” Thorin chuckled, glancing at Bilbo, who just snorted.

“Largo fed us and gave us a bag of scones and a waterskin, each and waved us off.” Frerin went on. “Gimli seemed to know where we were going, so I let him lead. As we walked, we talked and Gimli told me who he was and wasn’t that a shock? Mind you… finding out the date was a bit of a shock, too. I remember watching your quest and then Gimli’s. I should have recognised him, but I wasn’t expecting to see a lad in his sixties, the last time I’d seen him, he’d been in his **_two-hundred_** -and-sixties, boarding that boat with the elves to sail West. And he had no idea who I was, none at all.”

“No, he wouldn’t…” Thorin sighed. “Azanulbizar and the people we lost there, was a painful subject for us. We lost so many. And we had nothing to remember them by. No portraits, no bodies and no funerals. Nothing.”

“Why no bodies or funerals?” Frerin asked.

“There were too many dead.” Thorin sighed. “We didn’t have enough people or wagons to bring them home, we had no chance of doing individual funerals for them before their bodies started to rot. We had do to something, right there and then. And we had no access to caverns to bury them in, nor even rocks to make cairns for them. Our only option, to stave off scavengers and disease… was to burn them.”

“Oh, Mahal…” Frerin whispered.

“Aye…” Thorin nodded.

“Well, that explains a lot.” Frerin sighed.

“What did Fortin tell you?” Bilbo asked.

“Pretty much everything that you’d told him.” Frerin answered. “Assuming that you’re Bilbo, that is.”

“He is.” Thorin nodded. “He’s also the [Uzbadya Imrikh](Royal%20Shield).”

“And Thorin’s betrothed.” Kíli grinned, laughing as Frerin's eyes bulged in shock.

“T-Thorin’s… be-trothed…” The young dwarf stammered. “How did you get **_that_** passed him?”

“He didn’t object.” Kíli replied. “Not even once.”

“Mahal…” Frerin turned to Bilbo. “He loves you. He always swore that he’d never marry.”

“Shut up, Frerin!” Thorin growled.

“Ooh, look, the thundercloud’s back, I'm so afraid...” Frerin teased, making Dwalin snort and cough to cover it. “Anyway… Fortinbras gave us packs and some money, he said that it was the last of the rents owed to Bilbo, from before Largo took over the Baggins Estate, he also said that we could argue over it, with Bilbo, about paying it back. We bought weapons in some place called Bree, from Men, Gimli wouldn’t let us go to a dwarven smith, he said that given our ages, we’d be escorted back to his mother immediately and that wouldn’t do us any good. We stayed on the East-West Road to cross the mountains and made sure not to stop at any settlements overnight, Gimli said it would be less noticeable that we were underage if we only stopped at waystations or villages during the day.”

“Aye.” Dwalin nodded. “Men would assume you were of age, while dwarves would assume that you were with a family or wagon-train.”

“That’s what Gimli said, too.” Frerin nodded. “We crossed the River Running, as though we were headed for the Iron Hills but turned and made our way north, staying just within sight of the river until we were passed the lake. Then we came straight here.” He shrugged. “It was kind of clear that this area hadn’t been visited lately, the dust and leaves on the road would have shown your tracks, if you’d come this way. We made our little camp and settled down to wait for you.” He gave a bright grin and held out his hands. “And here you are!”

“It’s a damn good thing that mother’s not alive anymore, Frerin, or she’d be after you with a switch.” Thorin muttered.

“So…? What do we do with them?” Balin asked.

“Oi!” Frerin exclaimed. “I’m here to help.”

“Help?” Thorin snorted. “Frerin, you’re forty-eight years old. For Mahal’s sake, you won’t see your coming of age for twenty-seven years.” He huffed. “And that’s assuming that Dís doesn’t kill you in the meantime.”

“But I’ve been training in the Halls.” Frerin argued. “Amad sent me to Níli to learn the bow. He says that I’m as good as Kíli and better than you. I’m still only okay with a sword, but my knife work made Great-Uncle Frór wager against his Uncle Borin that I could beat Durin. And I did!”

Thorin reared his head back a little in surprise. “You beat Durin? You. Beat. Durin. In a knife fight?”

 ** _“Yes!”_** Frerin exclaimed.

“Alright…” Thorin rocked his head back and forward. “Tomorrow, you show Dwalin. If he says you’re good, I **_won’t_** tie you up and leave you somewhere, safe until we deal with the dragon.”

“That’s fine.” Frerin’s grin grew. “I can work with that.”

“For now.” Thorin huffed. “Kíli? Take him. See what he’s really like with his bow.”

“Yes, Uncle.” Kíli grinned. “Come on, [irak’adadith](little%20Uncle).” He slung one arm over frerin’s shoulder and lead him away.

“Oi!” Frerin objected and pushed Kíli’s arm away but stayed at Kíli’s side as they wandered into the ruins.

Thorin waited until they were out of hearing before he started to laugh and was quickly joined by Dwalin and Balin.

“Something funny?” Gloín rumbled as he, Gimli and Legolas re-joined them.

“Frerin thinks he beat Durin in a knife fight.” Thorin’s laughter fell to chuckles.

“Huhnt…” Gloín choked and his next breath and coughed for a bit.

“Not sure he can’t.” Gimli muttered. “He's bested me, nine times out of ten.”

Legolas inhaled sharply. “Truly?!”

“Aye, he’s gifted.” Gimli nodded. “Even you and your pretty blades would fall to him.”

Legolas closed his mouth with a snap.

“I’ll test him, meself.” Dwalin said. “Legolas, I might get you to go against him, just so’s I kin watch how ‘e moves.”

“Of course, Dwalin.” Legolas dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“And you, too, Gimli.” Dwalin grunted.

“Aye.” Gimli nodded.

“Excellent.” Bilbo chirped. “And if Frerin is as good as he thinks he is, can I spar against him? He’s the closest of you lot to my height, it would be grand to spar with someone the right height. Frodo might have been right but he wasn’t the best fighter, not my Frodo.”

“Your Frodo?” Gimli grimaced. “You mean **_our_** Frodo.”

“I had him for longer.” Bilbo objected.

“We took him further.” Gimli countered.

“I think you’ll find, he’s his own Frodo.” Legolas corrected both of them.

Bilbo narrowed his eyes at Legolas before heaving a sigh. “Yes, that’s probably how he thinks of it.”

Gimli grunted in disgusted. “Probably.”

“Anyway…” Legolas added. “Why can’t we share him? You’re his Uncle.” He pointed at Bilbo. “And we’re his Fellowship.” He told Gimli.

“That’s true.” Bilbo nodded slowly.

“Aye.” Gimli’s nod was just as slow.

“Where’s this camp of yours, Gimli-lad?” Bombur demanded as he pulled himself to his feet. “The day is passing and night will be on us and I won’t have dinner ready to eat.”

“Over here.” Gimli lead Bombur around a few boulders and into a narrow break in the wall. “We camped in here, for the last two nights.”

Here, turned out to be a room within the city-walls, probably room belonging to a guardsman or city soldier.

“Oh, nice, there’s even a fireplace and a stove.” Bombur grinned.

“Aye, it’s blocked somewhere, though. The smoke seeps through the out walls instead of going up and coming out on the top of the battlements.” Gimli warned.

“Not a worry, lad, we’ve good dry wood, it doesn’t smoke much at all.” Bombur patted Gimli on the shoulder as he went past. “Now, what’s say we have some of Bilbo’s lovely stuffed bread?”

“Oh… Oh, yes, please.” Gimli nearly drooled. “I’ve not had that since young Elanor died.”

“How long ago was that, Gimli?” Bilbo half dreaded hearing the answer.

“Oh, I couldn’t rightly say.” Gimli frowned. “I had a hard time keeping track of the date for a while. I do remember that she was at Sam’s hundredth birthday, though, with all his children and theirs, she was.”

“Sam had children?” Bilbo blinked, he couldn’t recall Frodo ever telling him that.

“Heavens, did he have children?” Legolas laughed. “Tauriel accused him of trying to repopulate the Shire all on his own. Beat the Old Took by one child, he did.

“Sam had thirteen children?” Bilbo blinked.

“Thirteen?” Thorin gasped.

“Oh, aye.” Gimli nodded. “Legolas, correct me iffen I get ‘em in the wrong order.”

“I shall.”

“Right.” Gimli took a deep breath. “Elanor was the first. Then Frodo, Rose, Merry, Pippin, Goldilocks, Hamfast, Daisy, Primrose, Bilbo, Robin, Ruby and Tolman.”

“It was Ruby then Robin.” Legolas added. “But yes, that’s all of them.”

“Good heavens…” Thorin whispered. “Thirteen children.”

The rest of the evening was spent with Bard, Gimli and Bilbo regaling the Company with tales of the antics that children got up to.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nadadith = Little brother  
> Imrikh = shield

_“Sam had thirteen children?” Bilbo blinked._

_“Thirteen?” Thorin gasped._

_“Oh, aye.” Gimli nodded. “Legolas, correct me iffen I get ‘em in the wrong order.”_

_“I shall.”_

_“Right.” Gimli took a deep breath. “Elanor was the first. Then Frodo, Rose, Merry, Pippin, Goldilocks, Hamfast, Daisy, Primrose, Bilbo, Robin, Ruby and Tolman.”_

_“It was Ruby then Robin.” Legolas added. “But yes, that’s all of them.”_

_“Good heavens…” Thorin whispered. “Thirteen children.”_

_The rest of the evening was spent with Bard, Gimli and Bilbo regaling the Company with tales of the antics that children got up to._

Lunch the next day saw a battered, bruised and sore Dwalin, slumped down beside his brother and a smug Gimli and Frerin sitting opposite them.

“Well?” Balin turned from his bowl of stew to look at Dwalin.

“Aye…” Dwalin whispered, clearly exhausted.

“Aye, what?” Balin frowned.

“Aye, they’re good.” Fíli joined them, dropping down onto a rock against the wall, facing out over the stream. “Dwalin wasn’t expecting either of them to be so good and now, he’s paying for it.”

“Paying for it?” Balin asked.

“Oh, yes.” Kíli grinned sitting beside his brother. “Gimli knocked him on his arse a few times before he realised that Gimli fought like Gloín and set them against each other. They went at it for over half an hour, until Gimli did this move that Gloín couldn’t fend off and got laid out cold.”

“Then Dwalin faced off with Frerin.” Fíli snickered. “It took him nearly five minutes to realise that he wasn’t touching Frerin and Frerin was walloping him with the flat of his knives every time he connected.”

“Leaving lots of bruises.” Kíli nudged Frerin and reached up to ruffle the younger dwarf’s hair.

“Oi!” Frerin grunted. “Leave off. I just got my braids the way I want them.”

“Kíli. Leave him be.” Thorin clipped Kíli across the back of the head. “Just because you do nothing with your hair, doesn’t mean you can mess up someone else’s. You mother taught him those braids.” He frowned at Frerin. “But you seem to be missing a few beads, [nadadith](little%20brother).”

Frerin ran his fingers along his braids, counting as he went. “I got them all.” He argued.

“No, nadadith.” Thorin corrected. “You’re missing a Master Bladesman’s Bead and a Master Bowman’s Bead.” He held out a pair of simple carved stone beads, one in a light-coloured stone and the other in a dark grey stone. “These will have to do, until we can forge metal ones for you.”

Frerin’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack.

“Wha…?”

“Legolas and Kíli told me of your skill with a bow, last night, and I saw you spar with Dwalin, Legolas and Bilbo, this morning.” Thorin said. “I know true skill when I see it. And you? You have skill, my brother.” Frerin hesitantly reached out and took the beads, fully expecting Thorin to pull away and declare them a prank.

“Aye.” Dwalin said, tiredly. “He might even be able to stand against Dís long enough to talk her out of maiming us for leaving her behind.”

“Aye.” Gloín nodded. “He might, at that.” Frerin shrugged, he was familiar enough with Dís’ temper to not be concerned.

“How did he go against Bilbo?” Thorin asked.

“Oh that was fun.” Fíli laughed. “They circled each other for a bit and then… I don’t know… it was almost like they were dancing.”

“It were very impressive.” Dwalin said. “I didn’t realise how good our [Imrikh](Shield) was. I’d not like to get on his bad side. That’s fer sure.”

“So…?” Frerin looked around the group. “What do we do now?” He'd separated off a couple of locks of hair and slipped both beads over one lock and was twisting the locks around each other to form a simple braid. With the skill beads proudly sitting below his ear, he sat back and waited for an answer.

“We check out the city.” Thorin said. “And hope that the City Hall wasn’t too badly damaged. We need a place to meet with Thranduil and Tharkûn and that’s the best option. There’s an army of orcs coming.”

“Two.” Bilbo corrected. “Two armies. Azog’s come from the tip of the South-East Arm and Bolg’s come from the north over the Western Arms.”

“Ah, yes.” Thorin nodded. “That’s right. We need to send word to Dáin. Get him and some of his lads over, some of them must be itching for a decent fight.”

“And my father is sending an emissary to the Master of Laketown.” Legolas said, remembering the letters from his father, that were delivered by scouts as the Company reached the point of leaving the shadows of the forest. “Warning him and telling them to pull up the bridge to the town. They should be safe enough, then.” The last was said to Bard, knowing that the Man would be worried for this children.

“Thank you.” Bard nodded.

“Then there’s the dragon to deal with.” Thorin said. “I’d prefer to get that done before we face the orcs. Tharkûn and Thranduil should be here a few days before them.”

“Where do we put the ballista?” Bard asked.

“I’d like the beast out of my mountain before you shoot it.” Thorin said. “But other than enraging the beast, again, I can’t see a way to do that.”

“Neither can I.” Bard said, shaking his head.

“That means the ballista has to be taken into the mountain and set up.” Thorin said.

“But Tharkûn said not to go into the mountain.” Ori reminded them. “He said the dragon’s not the only danger.

“It’s not.” Thorin nodded. “He’s talking of the gold itself, gold-sickness is prevalent in the Durin line and the Ur brothers are the only non-Durin dwarves among us. I’ll not take the chance that they could be affected by the dragon’s curse. But our non-dwarven Company members won’t have any issues. If they were to take the ballista to the main entrance to the treasury and Bilbo were to call on Smaug from there? Bard should have a clear shot at the beast. I can send Legolas to the guard’s armoury, there was a number of Black Arrows there, he can set up a bow near the main gates, if Bard misses or can’t get a clear shot, Legolas should be able to get him as he goes through the gates.”

“If there’s more than one Black Arrow in the Armoury,” Bard suggested, “bring them all out. Set up backup points at the gate and here in Dale. Legolas, Tauriel, Kíli and Frerin can man them.”

“Aye, that might work.” Dwalin said. “Put Legolas at Erebor’s gate, to the left. Tauriel to the right and Kíli and Frerin on the corners of Dale’s city walls. The beast would covered from the most angles we can manage.”

“But do we have ballistas for all the arrows?” Bilbo asked.

“Don’t really need ballistas.” Bard replied. “A good heavy bow and a decent support to aim and loose from, it all that’s needed.”

“Well, then, let’s look at what we can come up with and where to place you all.” Balin clapped his hands.

Frerin stood behind a makeshift ballista, Gimli at his side as an additional spotter. Both were glad that they weren’t going into the mountain. But at the same time, they were nervous for the four that were.

Legolas and Tauriel had both visited Erebor after the War of the Ring and Tauriel knew where the Guard Armoury was. The two had very carefully scaled the mountain and once they were above the battlements, they lowered themselves to the upper battlements. From there it was only a few minutes of light-footed sneaking, to get to the Armoury. Bundling up the pieces of two ballistas and all the Black Arrows they could find, took only moments and Legolas was quick to lower them by rope to a waiting Bard.

A rope ladder was draped down the wall, for the two elves and they were quickly on their way back to Dale. A hunt through the City’s Guard rooms found a number of ballista bowstrings,

that were ideal for Kíli and Frerin to place on the tops of the broken Guard Towers, at the corners of the walls. Makeshift bows were created and placed, before the two dwarves spent nearly an hour ensuring that they would have clear lines of sight to Erebor’s gate and anything that came through it.

The elves meticulously cleaned and prepared the ballistas taken from the Armoury and got them ready for use. Over the course of the day, the elves and Bard took the purloined ballistas apart and put them back together, enough times that they would be able to do so, alone, without tools, hesitation or complication.

Five days after arriving in Dale they were as ready as they were ever going to be.

Frerin and Gimli were ready, the Black Arrow pointing towards the gaping hole that Smaug had caused.

Kíli and Gloín were on the Tower on the opposite side of the city, their Arrow also pointing towards the hole. They were relying on Fíli, as he perched on the shattered ruins of the city’s central Watch Tower, ready to signal Gimli and Gloín, if anything should emerge from the mountain. Dwalin, Balin and Thorin stood restlessly on the main gate Tower, eyes flicking from Erebor to Fíli and back to the mountain. The rest of the Company stood in the middle of the gate below them, their weapons precisely placed for hands to grab in seconds, if need be.

They all watched as Tauriel and Legolas signalled that their ballistas both had Black Arrows ready to loose into the main cavern.

It was at this point that Bilbo and Bard left the relative safety of Dale and made for hole in the gate.


	14. Chapter 14

_Kíli and Gloín were on the Tower on the opposite side of the city, their Arrow also pointing towards the hole. They were relying on Fíli, as he perched on the shattered ruins of the city’s central Watch Tower, ready to signal Gimli and Gloín, if anything should emerge from the mountain. Dwalin, Balin and Thorin stood restlessly on the main gate Tower, eyes flicking from Erebor to Fíli and back to the mountain. The rest of the Company stood in the middle of the gate below them, their weapons precisely placed for hands to grab in seconds, if need be._

_They all watched as Tauriel and Legolas signalled that their ballistas both had Black Arrows ready to loose into the main cavern._

_It was at this point that Bilbo and Bard left the relative safety of Dale and made for hole in the_ _gate._

Gandalf pushed his horse a little harder, he had to get to Erebor before Thorin lost what little patience he had and entered the mountain. Between the susceptibility of the line of Durin to gold-sickness and the malevolent taint that Smaug was sure to cover the gold inside the mountain with, the possibility of Thorin falling to the curse was strong.

As he approached the ruined gates of Dale, he was surprised to be hailed.

“Tharkûn!” A young voice called, a voice soon followed by a young dwarf.

It took the old wizard a few moments to realise he didn’t know who the dwarf was. “Well, now…” He mused. “Who do we have here?”

“Just a moment while I let someone know you’re here.” The dwarf gave him a grin and yelled back towards the centre of the city, in Khuzdul. A few seconds passed and young Fíli joined them, stomping his way around the boulder strewn about the road.

“Tharkûn, good of you to join us… finally…” Fíli muttered the second part under his breath and only Gandalf’s istar senses allowed him to hear it.

“Fíli.” Gandalf looked at the two dwarves. “Who is this? Where is Bilbo Baggins? Where is Thorin Oakenshield?”

“Both of them are up at the mountain-” Fíli began, only to be cut off by Gandalf.

“I told him **_not_** to go into the mountain.” Gandalf ranted. “I told him Smaug wasn’t the only danger. I told him-”

“Enough.” Fíli snapped and startled Gandalf into silence. “Better. If had let me continue… I would have explained.” He glared at the wizard. “Thorin has not entered the mountain. No dwarf has. Our non-dwarven mem-”

“You sent Bilbo into the moun-”

“Stop!” Fíli snapped again. “The dragon is dead.” He started to explain.

“I think that highly unlik-”

 ** _“[Atkut!](Silence!)_** ** _”_** Fíli finally yelled. “You left and we did the best we could with what we had. Now… **_Shut up and listen!_** ” Gandalf reeled back in surprise. “Thank you.” He nodded. “The dragon is dead. Bard the Bowman, Lord of Dale, loosed the Black Arrow that pierced the dragon’s heart and ended its life.”

“…oh…”

“Exactly.” Fíli did his best to ignore Frerin's badly smothered laughter. “Our non-dwarven members have spent the last two weeks moving the beast from the treasury to the entrance chamber. Because **_you_** said the dragon was not the only danger in the mountain and Thorin knew that you meant the gold itself, as Durins are especially vulnerable to gold-sickness.”

“…ah…” Gandalf sighed in relief, the thought of dealing with a gold-sick king had terrified him.

“Exactly.” Fíli said again. “Bilbo, Tauriel, Legolas and Bard are the only ones to enter the mountain, so far. Thorin told them where to find metal cables and pulleys in the quarry stores and how to attach them to the dragon. We have to get the beast out of the mountain before it rots and stinks out the entire mountain.”

“Ah…”

“It took three days to get it from the treasury, out into the lower gallery.” Fíli ignored Frerin's chuckles and Gandalf’s grunts. “But that was the easy bit. Next, they had to lift it up over a hundred feet to the main gallery and from there to the entrance chamber, which is where the beast is now. Another two or three days and we’ll have it out of the mountain, all together.”

“There is another problem…” Gandalf grimaced.

“What now?” Fíli glared at the wizard.

“There are orcs coming.” The wizard paused, unsure if he should wait and tell Thorin.

“From Gundabad and Dol-Guldur.” Fíli nodded. “We know.”

“What? How?” Gandalf wanted to know.

“Frerin is a raven-speaker.” Fíli nodded to Frerin. “The ravens of Erebor have returned and they’ve been telling Frerin of armies of orcs headed our way.” Fíli shrugged. “Bolg leads an army from Gundabad, he plans to use Ravenhill as a strategic communications point and Azog is likely to be there, himself. He’s also using were-worms to bring his orcs from Dol-Guldur and plans to attack from the east, which is a bit stupid as to get to Erebor’s east, his worms will have to burrow right around the mountain, up from the south to the west, on to the north to get to the east flanks, otherwise they have to go under the lake or the river and that would flood their tunnels.”

“Huh…” Gandalf grunted in understanding.

“Dáin’s on his way with two thousand dwarves.” Fíli went on. “Thranduil is bringing another two-and-a-half thousand, mostly archers but he’s said that he’ll have at least a thousand swords. And his scouts have been sent to Lothlorien, so there might be a few Galadrhim elves, too. Ravens were sent to Elrond of Rivendell warning him, his reply was short. The Great Eagles are bringing his elves and all the medical supplies they can carry.”

“Good heavens…” Gandalf whispered.

“Yes.” Fíli nodded. “Thranduil’s last message said he should be here, sometime this evening. Elrond won’t get here ‘til morning. Dáin and his lads will be next, sometime later tomorrow. For now, Bofur is in charge of getting Dale’s City Hall usable. It’s neutral ground for all of us and one of the only places that still has four walls.”

“We’re also clearing areas for camps.” Frerin said. “We don’t want one of Dáin’s dwarves butting heads with one of Thranduil’s elves, before the orcs arrive.”

“Aye, that’s right.” Fíli grinned. “We’ve put Dáin and his Cohorts along the east wall. Elrond and whoever he brings are to the west wall. Thranduil and his elves are in the marketplace and if anyone comes from Lothlorien they can either stay with Thranduil or they can take the store barns. The Company are staying in the Guardrooms until Erebor is safe.”

“And what of Laketown?”

“Bard’s staying with us for the present, the Lord’s House is less than a ruin, it’s a crumble of pebbles.” Fíli said.

“No, Laketown, itself.” Gandalf corrected.

“Oh, right, yeah.” Fíli nodded. “Thranduil sent them an envoy and warned the Master of the town. They’ve pulled up the bridge between the town and the shores. Not even an elf could make that long a shot. They’re not going to get in the way and no-one can get to them, except by boat.”

“I see.” Gandalf nodded and though his way through what he’d just been told. “The mountain is the safest place, strategically speaking.” He mused.

“But until the gold is treated, no dwarf is to step into the mountain, Thorin’s orders.” Frerin responded.

“Then I had best see about the gold, hadn’t it?” Gandalf replied. “Would someone take me to Thorin, I dare say that he will be able to point me in the direction of treasury.”

“Frerin?” Fíli asked. “I’ll finish up your watch, I was next on, anyway and you only had another ten minutes.”

“You sure?” Frerin asked.

“Of course, [irak-adadith](little%20Uncle).” Fíli tossed an apple to the younger dwarf.

“[Ikhmin](Thanks).” Frerin grinned and caught the fruit. “This way, Tharkûn. Leave your horse here, it won’t get through some areas.” And lead the wizard through the ruins of Dale.

As the left the city’s gate and started down the meandering road to Erebor, Gandalf studied the young dwarf.

“Fíli called you Frerin, did he not?” The wizard asked.

“Aye.”

“How did you come to be here? The Iron Hills are two hundred miles away.”

“Didn’t come from there.” Frerin grinned. “I came from the west. Me and Gimli.”

“West? Gimli?” Gandalf frowned. “Isn’t he… Isn’t he Gloín’s son?”

“Aye. We met up in the Shire and came from there, together.”

“You ran away? You mother’s must be frantic.” Gandalf chided.

“My mother’s been dead since Azanulbizar, she did not survive the loss of her family.” Frerin's voice went flat.

“…oh… I am sorry, I meant no disrespect.” Gandalf back pedalled. “And your father?”

“Went missing not long after that. My brother and sister are all I have.”

“And will they not be worried for you?”

“Why?”

“There is a battle soon to come and you are young…” Gandalf frowned. “Your mother died at Azanulbizar you said? But you are too young.”

Frerin laughed. “Younger than you think, but older, too.” He shook his head.

“Frerin?” Thorin greeted them as they reached the shattered gates of Erebor. “What are you doing here, [nadadith](little%20brother)?” Then he saw the wizard. “Ah, he finally got here, then.” Thorin turned to Gandalf. “You’re late, wizard.”

“A wizard is never late, Thorin Oakenshield, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.”

“If you say so.” Thorin snorted.

“I do.” Gandalf nodded.

“Gandalf!” Bilbo’s bright voice cut into the conversation.

“Bilbo Baggins.” Gandalf smiled at the hobbit. “Are you well?”

“Of course, I’m well.” Bilbo huffed. “When did you get here?”

“Just a short while ago. Young Frerin here brough me to the mountain and I’ve only just greeted Thorin and nothing more.”

“We were just going to break for luncheon, are you joining us?” Bilbo asked.

“I will not.” Gandalf shook his head. “I had thought to enter the mountain and see what I could do about removing the taint of Smaug from the treasury.”

“Well, it’s a fairly clear route, the dragon’s destruction is quite focused, if you follow the mess, it will lead you right there.” Bilbo said and turned to Thorin and Frerin. “And what about you, Frerin?”

“Yes, Bilbo, I’ll stay, Fíli’s on watch until sunset.” Frerin. “Oi, Thorin? Toss me one of Bilbo’s rolls?”

“You need more than a roll.” Thorin objected. “You’re a growing dwarf, you need to eat properly.” He handed over a tin plate holding a roll, some cold roast vegetables and a slab of beef. “Eat, nadadith. And you, too.” He handed a similarly loaded plate to Bilbo. “[Sasgalthi astun, nadadith?](Did%20he%20question%20you,%20little%20brother?)”

“[Kun, ak hu imhil-nê na **_ishbit_**](Yes,%20but%20he%20doesn%E2%80%99t%20yet%20understand.).” Frerin whined.

“Now, now, Frerin. I’m sure he’ll figure it out, soon enough.” Bilbo patted the young dwarf’s leg as he crossed to sit on Thorin’s other side.

Gandalf just looked at the three and shook his head, his understanding of Khuzdul was old and out of use, he’d have to puzzle it out later. For now, he had gold to inspect and a dragon’s curse to destroy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tharkûn = Dwarves name for Gandalf  
> Atkut = silence  
> Irak-adadith = Little Uncle  
> Ikhmin = Thanks  
> Nadadith = little brother  
> Sasgalthi astun, nadadith? = Did he question you, little brother?  
> Kun, ak hu imhil-nê na ishbit. = Yes, but he doesn’t yet understand.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sasgalthi astun, nadadith? = Did he question you, little brother?  
> Kun, ak hu imhil-nê na ishbit= Yes, but he doesn’t yet understand.  
> Gloín-ul = Gloín’s son  
> Níli-ul = Níli’s son  
> Uzbadya Imrikh =Royal Shield

_“You need more than a roll.” Thorin objected. “You’re a growing dwarf, you need to eat properly.” He handed over a tin plate holding a roll, some cold roast vegetables and a slab of beef. “Eat, little brother. And you, too.” He handed a similarly loaded plate to Bilbo. “[Sasgalthi astun, nadadith?](Did%20he%20question%20you,%20little%20brother?)"_

_“[Kun, ak hu imhil-nê na **ishbit**.](Yes,%20but%20he%20doesn%E2%80%99t%20yet%20understand.)” Frerin whined._

_“Now, now, Frerin. I’m sure he’ll figure it out, soon enough.” Bilbo patted the young dwarf’s leg as he crossed to sit on Thorin’s other side._

_Gandalf just looked at the three and shook his head, his understanding of Khuzdul was old and out of use, he’d have to puzzle it out later. For now, he had gold to inspect and a dragon’s curse to destroy._

As Thorin laid down the quill, Gandalf stumbled into the City Hall, supported by Bifur and Bofur.

“What happened to him?” Thorin demanded.

“Dunno.” There was no sign of Bofur’s usual grin. “He came out of the mountain like this.”

“Tharkûn?” Thorin asked, not sure if the wizard was even capable of answering.

“It’s alright.” He whispered. “I shall be fine. I just need to rest. The dragons’ curses were greater than I expected.”

“The dragons’ **_curses_**?” Thranduil asked, from his seat opposite Thorin at the desk they were using as a negotiation table.

“Yes, dragons’ curses.” Gandalf nodded tiredly. “Thrór must have gotten his hands on a piece from another dragon’s hoard, before Smaug came. The infection was too… varied. It didn’t belong to just one dragon. It’s probably what made Thrór sick to start with, made him hoard more and more gold. It’s also likely that it was responsible for drawing Smaug to the mountain.”

“Would it have been what caused my grandfather to deny Thranduil his White Gems?” Thorin asked.

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Bilbo.” Gandalf accepted a goblet of water from Bilbo. “Most definitely.” He directed the assurance to Thorin.

“How do we get rid of it?” Thorin asked. “Thranduil’s commission needs to be finished and my people need a home.”

“It’s gone.” Gandalf smiled looked from Thorin to Thranduil in confusion. “What have you done?” He frowned.

“We’ve negotiated a peace between us.” Thranduil answered. “Aid and arms will be given if outside forces attack either nation. Our people shall be able to pass through the lands of the other. Erebor will assist in the destruction of the darkness within Eryn Galen and my elves will assist in providing wild game and foraged foods for Erebor. This latter exchange will last for ten years.”

“In addition to this,” Thorin added. “Erebor will return the White Gems of Lasgalen to Eryn Galen, along with building watchtowers at various points around the forest, which will be manned by elves with runners sent to both nations if a hostile force is seen.”

“And Eryn Galen will endorse two betrothal contracts, one between Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli Gloín-ul and a second between Tauriel Firelily and Kíli Níli-ul.” Elrond went on, casting only a bare glance at Thranduil and Dáin. The dwarf sighed quietly, but he understood politics, even if he despised them.

“Betrothal?” Gandalf looked from one being to another. “Whatever has been going on since I left you at Beorn’s?”

Thorin barked a laugh. “So much.” He shook his head. “So **_very_** much.”

“But betrothals?” Gandalf asked. “Did the youngsters even consent?”

“Oh, yes.” Elrond smothered at smile. “Not only consented but encouraged them be included in the negotiations. They were already signed, however, Thranduil Elvenking had not been able to endorse them officially, as Legolas and Tauriel abandoned their posts to leave the forest. Having them included in the Treaty, allows their actions to be construed as unofficially endorsed by the throne.”

Gandalf shook his head. “Politics.” He muttered.

“Aye.” Thorin laughed.

“Yes, yes, it’s a good thing you were here to meddle.” Bilbo assured the wizard cheerfully, placing a plate of food in front of him.

“Now, Bilbo.” Elrond did smile. “That wasn’t nice.”

“I don’t particularly care about **_nice_**.” Bilbo snarked. “I care about getting this done. We have two armies of orcs coming this way, with intent destroy the mountain and end the line of Durin. And as I am the [Uzbadya Imrikh](Royal%20Shield) and betrothed to Thorin, I have no intention of letting that happen. **_Get in my way and you will regret it.”_** The last sentence sent shivers of dread down the backs of a number of people. “So, what are our current plans?” He dropped a large map of Erebor and its surrounding land, onto the table. “Where are we putting troops and which troops will they be?” Four wax pencils were dropped onto the map. “Green for elven units, red for the dwarven Cohorts, blue for archers and yellow for mixed troops of ground fighters. Other than Kíli and Frerin there are no dwarven archers.”

The negotiations of what weapons were best placed where and who they were, went on for hours. Finally, a rough draft was laid on the table and the commanders of the various units were called in and given their orders. Many of those commanders were not pleased with those orders until the war council, consisting of Thorin, Bilbo, Thranduil, Legolas, Tauriel, Elrond and Galadriel, sat them down and explained the reasoning behind those orders. After that, the commanders were rather keen to pass that reasoning onto their troops, they felt that without passing that information along, there would be dissention in the ranks and fighting would likely occur between elven and dwarven soldiers, but with that information, everyone would know who they were fighting and why.

The shock of finding out that Frerin was actually Thorin’s younger brother, who had been killed at Azanulbizar, left Gandalf and Galadriel blinking in stunned confusion. The debate of where to stash he and Gimli was quickly shut down by Bilbo, Thorin and Legolas. But it wasn’t until both young dwarves showed their skills, in a sparring session with first dwarves and then elves, that it was conceded that both were as capable of defending themselves as anyone else present. Having said that, it was a very short discussion about where to place them. Thorin said that Frerin would stay with he, Dwalin and Bilbo, being predominantly paired with Bilbo, their height and knife skills being well balanced against each other’s. Gimli would pair with Legolas, or course, however, very few people understood why and it took a free-for-all on the training grounds, for Thranduil, Elrond and Galadriel to concede that there were few pairs that fought better, side-by-side.

The non-dwarven forces camping in Dale, listened to Bilbo and Bard and all agreed to assist in moving Smaug’s corpse the last few yards needed to get it out of the mountain and position it where it would cause the orcs alarm.

Two days were taken up with this, two days where elves muttered about the strength of dwarves and dwarves muttered about the weightlessness of elves. Two days where Bilbo, Legolas and Gimli laughed behind their hands at the shocked expressions on elven and dwarven faces.

But at the end of those two days, Smaug was positioned outside the gate, curled as though asleep. It was here that Bilbo frowned and asked the question, ‘was the dragon going to rot?’. So far it had been dead for three weeks and other than a few scales that had been shed during the process of getting the beast from the treasury to where it was now, there was no sign of decomposition. No softening of the flesh, no smell, no sign at all. Gandalf, Galadriel, Elrond and Thranduil were consulted and after a hurried conversation, Thranduil admitted that no dragon’s body had been left after death, it had always been burnt, which had taken a massive amount of timber and coal to do.

It was decided that they had more important things to use timber and coal on, than a dragon that might never decompose and stink.

The night before the orcs were due to descend upon the mountain, Bilbo took, Thranduil, Elrond, Galadriel and Gandalf into the mountain, to the royal residential levels, something that Thorin had declared off limits to all others, until Azog and his armies were dealt with. He sat them down on a pretty little garden balcony that was sheltered from the winds and explained to them how he, Thorin, Kíli, Fíli, Legolas, Tauriel, Bard and Gimli had been restored to their younger bodies with all the memories of having lived their lives before.

Initially, Gandalf had tried to tell Bilbo that, that was not how the Valar worked, but Bilbo placed a bowl of carefully hoarded candies on a makeshift alter and the three elves and wizard watched, stunned, as the sweets disappeared one-by-one.

Bilbo stood beside the altar and spoke. He spoke of high adventure and deepest pain. He spoke of love and loss. He spoke of strength and weakness. He spoke of conviction and despair. He spoke of loyalty and betrayal. He spoke of success and failure. He spoke of his life and that of the others who had been restored.

And reminded them that challenging a Valar never ended well, for the challenger. That was what had gotten him in this predicament, in the first place.

It was only then that he told Gandalf that he wouldn’t be returning to the Shire, that he was staying in Erebor, after all he was betrothed to Thorin. Hearing that, Gandalf spluttered while Elrond and Thranduil chuckled and Galadriel smothered her laughter. Finding out that Bilbo was the [Uzbadya Imrikh](Royal%20Shield) and what that actually was, silenced all four of them. Not even Thranduil, with his long association with Erebor had ever heard of a non-dwarf holding the position. None of them were prepared to guess at the political repercussions of a **_hobbit_** holding the post.

And not just any hobbit. No, this was a hobbit that was going to become the Uzbadya Yâsûn or Royal Consort, in the Common Tongue, once Thorin was crowned as King Under the Mountain.

Bilbo almost felt sorry for Gandalf and Elrond when he told them what he’d picked up in the Misty Mountains and he listened quietly to Gandalf lecture him for having killed the creature, Gollum. Once the wizard finished, Bilbo explained the reasoning behind his actions by telling them what would have happened to Gollum if he hadn’t, of Mordor capturing and torturing the poor thing, of its obsession with the Ring and how the Ring, itself, had twisted the once-hobbit-like creature’s mind.

When Elrond stated that they would call a meeting of the White Council to discuss what was to be done with the Ring, Bilbo told them that the Ring had already been given to the Valar, so their meeting was pointless. Gandalf squawked about Bilbo having acted without thinking, only to have Bilbo cut him off and remind him that the Valar were responsible for Bilbo being here, it only made sense to offer it to them before committing himself to taking it all the way to Mount Doom.

Gandalf huffed and pouted but with Elrond, Galadriel and Thranduil backing him, and the fact that the Valar already had the Ring, there was nothing he could do about it but pout.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amad = mother

_When Elrond stated that they would call a meeting of the White Council to discuss what was to be done with the Ring, Bilbo told them that the Ring had already been given to the Valar, so their meeting was pointless. Gandalf squawked about Bilbo having acted without thinking, only to have Bilbo cut him off and remind him that the Valar were responsible for Bilbo being here, it only made sense to offer it to them before committing himself to taking it all the way to Mount Doom._

_Gandalf huffed and pouted but with Elrond, Galadriel and Thranduil backing him, and the fact that the Valar already had the Ring, there was nothing he could do about it but pout._

Watching as the orcs descended on Erebor was hard for Bilbo, harder than he’d expected but running out onto the battlefield behind Thorin, Fíli and Kíli with Frerin to his left, was one of the easiest things that he’d done since leaving Bag End, this time around. He spared a second to throw a reassuring glance at Frerin before he was confronted with a wall of orcs. The sword that Thorin had made for him, in Bree, bit into the first of what Bilbo knew would be many orcs.

There was a pause as the rest of the Company joined Dáin’s dwarves in decimating the orcs’ ground troops and trolls. Then Balin arrived driving that ridiculous War Wagon leading a small flock of Battle Rams. This was followed by a hair-raising and heart-shuddering ride to Ravenhill, where Azog and Bolg were going to do their best to end the line of Durin.

A few blissfully quiet minutes as they reached the old watchtower and waited for Azog to get impatient. This time no-one was entering the tunnels under the tower, this time they would wait for the orcs to come to them. Legolas and Tauriel waited with Fíli and Kíli at the edge of the old bridge that spanned the small chasm, just below the frozen waterfall. This was where Bolg would meet his end, just as he had in Legolas’s memories. Thorin, Bilbo, Frerin and Dwalin waited on the edge of the ice, knowing that Azog would soon send a squad of his personal guard after Thorin. For all that he wanted to end the line, he wasn’t at all concerned who did it. He or his orcs, it didn’t matter.

Thorin and Bilbo had planned this, they’d told Dwalin every move that was made and Frerin had watched from the Halls and was able to add a few things that neither Thorin, who had been busy fighting, or Bilbo, who had spent good chunk of the fight unconscious, were aware of. This wasn’t going to be a simple or clean fight, this was going to be brutal and bloody, all of them were going to be injured and that had been taken into consideration as they planned.

“This is going to be extremely unpleasant…” Bilbo grimaced.

“Aye…” Dwalin nodded, looking at Thorin.

They knew there was a good chance that their plans were going to amount to nothing, once Azog arrived, but if things went the way they had planned, Thorin was going to be badly injured, they could see no other way for getting so close to the orc. It was just a case of how badly? They all knew that Thorin had a blind spot as far as that particular orc was concerned but they were hoping that having his betrothed as well as his brother with him, would temper his reaction.

Seconds had crept into minutes before there was movement on the far side of the ice. Azog emerged from a shattered archway, high on the tower, while Bolg stalked from a lower tunnel and headed for the bridge.

“Time to end this.” Thorin muttered and shared a quiet look with each of his companions.

“Aye.” Each of them nodded.

“We’ve better things to do, than to put up with the likes of that.” Bilbo nodded across the ice.

“That we do.” Thorin smiled.

Twenty minutes later, Frerin lead his three companions off the ice, the head of the pale orc hanging from his hand, while Dwalin and Bilbo supported Thorin. Like they’d expected, he’d taken the brunt of Azog’s fury, his mail was rent and torn, his coat nearly shredded, and under all that his body was just as badly damaged. Broken ribs and cuts were the lesser of his injuries. Azog’s arm-blade pierced Thorin’s boot and foot, nearly cleaving it in two and a stab wound from the same blade went through his shoulder, just as it had before, only this time Thorin was able to push it higher, instead of piercing his heart and lungs, he now had a shattered collar bone, a few broken ribs and a massively torn shoulder.

But as the alternative was death? This wasn't such a bad outcome.

Bilbo had strapped the wounds as best he could and Dwalin was supporting their king, as they moved from the ice to stone. Watching, as below them Bolg got a lesson in manners from a pair of elves and a pair of dwarves. Legolas' blades bit deep into muscles and Tauriel’s sliced into tendons, Fíli’s removed the orc’s hands and Kíli smiled as his bowstring detached the orc’s head from its shoulders.

Bolg rocked in place, before the bridge and with it his headless body, fell into the chasm below, nearly taking Kíli with him, only Tauriel’s swift reflexes allowed her to grab at the hem Kíli’s coat as he was upended. A few frantic seconds and Kíli was back on firm stone, with Bolg’s head at his feet. A frown settled on his face as he focused onthe bow in his hands, to realise that using to remove Bolg's head had caused the bow to break on each side of the grip, leaving him holding a pair of bow-arms held together only by the bowstring.

Laying Thorin down on a bed of their cloaks, the dwarves and Bilbo left a path for Tauriel to reach the dwarven king. Her voice began the healing chants as Legolas sprinted down the hill, having told them he would fetch Elrond. He returned minutes later with Elrond and Galadriel, the two elves hurrying to Thorin’s side and taking over his care from an exhausted Tauriel.

It took three days for the elves to declare that Thorin was out of mortal danger and allow him to be moved Dale. Three days that were spent clearing the dead and dismembered bodies from the battlefield and the waterways, piling them high and laying what timber and coal could be spared around them. The threat of disease from the dead and poison from orcs’ weapons, strong in everyone’s minds.

The walls of Dale would need to be rebuilt in places, but for now, it would shelter them from the worst of the winter’s chill, until they could move into the mountain. Bard, Legolas and Thranduil descending on Laketown and basically emptying the floating town, so few people supported the Master that he was left with a town populated by only a few die-hard sycophants. The rest had decided that as Bard was the one to support them, so he would lead them, now. They packed their belongings onto their boats and just paddled away, leaving an almost deserted town.

In the rare moments that Thorin was awake, he told Bard that his people would be welcome to stay in the mountain for the winter and come spring Erebor would help with the rebuilding of Dale. Thranduil kept a distant look on his face but he, too, offered his people as hunters, the game in the north was abundant and varied. Dáin offered his builders, both to Dale and to Erebor, many wanted to help bring Erebor back to greatness.

Bilbo told them that come spring, the Shire was sending a caravan of hobbits, mostly Tooks but there were a few Brandybucks, Boffins, Chubbs, Gamgees, Seedwrights, Bolgers and a just barely of-age Drogo Baggins. These brave hobbits would take on the farming around Erebor and re-educate the people of Dale in how to prepare the ground and tend the crops they would grow.

Thorin gave a weak chuckle and made a comment about how Bilbo was already seeing to Erebor’s future.

Bilbo replied that someone had to and had anyone thought to send Dís a message? Did she know that they’d survived? Did she know that Frerin had been restored to them?

Thorin let his head fall back onto his pillow, closing his eyes in imagined pain. Balin, who was sitting beside him, said that Dís wouldn’t believe any letter that told her that Frerin was alive, she’d have to see it to believe it. He suggested that any letter sent, omit anything about the young dwarf.

So Bilbo wrote to Dís, a long and detailed letter, telling her everything that had happened and what they had done but left out any mention of her restored brother. Frerin entered the mountain and returned with a small metal box. He claimed that it was Dís’ and that only she would know how to open it, Thorin had made it for her for her tenth birthday, just a week before Smaug attacked. It would ensure that Dís would be the first to open the letter, if it was placed inside the box.

Galadriel offered to have one of her elves carry it to Ered Luin and see it placed into her hands. The elf would also be able to say that they had seen Thorin alive after the battle and if necessary, they could escort the princess back to Erebor.

The elf that came forward ignored Thranduil completely, much to Galadriel’s amusement. As he took Bilbo’s letter, Legolas entered the room and gasped. It turned out that the elf was Tellayen, one of the two elves that had warned Windrock and escaped Eryn Galen for Lothlorien. Legolas took Tellayen to the supply rooms, making sure that he was well stocked with arrows and food.

Moments before Tellayen left Dale, he was called back to the healing rooms. Thorin had more letters and an offer of settlement for him, stating that anyone who risked so much to save the lives of those they’d never met, was someone who was worth investing in. Tellayen and his partner Lirilla would be welcomed by Erebor as a part of the guard or another position, if they preferred. Tellayen said that he would speak to Lirilla and between them, they would decide, but that they probably would return north, Lothlorien was lovely but it was far warmer than they liked, even in winter.

Bilbo sat down beside Frerin and accepted a bowl of stew and a bread roll.

“Thank you, Frerin.”

“No worries, Bilbo.” Frerin picked up his own bowl. “How’s Thorin doing?”

“Grumpy as ever.” Bilbo replied. “He’s having trouble making his left hand and arm do what he wants them to and until he can hold a mug in that hand, Oín and Elrond won’t let him out of the healing rooms.”

“Oh, joy.” Frerin groaned. “Let me guess, he’s demanding you keep him company, all day.”

“Pretty much.” Bilbo nodded. “Not that he’s getting it. I drop in, give him a pile of parchment, a bottle of ink and a quill and walk right back out, again.”

Frerin chuckled. “Mother and Dís were much the same. Neither put up with his attitude.”

“And I don’t see why I should either.” Bilbo smirked. “It’s only his left side that’s out of action, he can still write and talk, so he can still help with the reorganising works, even if it’s only keeping track of our supplies. He’s a very good market manager.”

Frerin tilted his head in thought. “What’s the difference between being a market manager and a king without a kingdom?”

“Obviously, very little.” Bilbo laughed.

“I wonder how long it’s going to take Dís to get here?” Frerin mused.

“Knowing [amad](mother), she’s already on her way and we can expect her anytime within the next month or so.” Fíli said brightly from his perch in front of the fire.

“I’ve asked Thorin if we can clean out her rooms, before she gets here.” Kíli was just as bright. “She won’t like arriving and then having to clean everything.”

“I wonder what she’s going to think of your betrothed, brother?” Fíli laughed. “You did tell her, didn’t you?”

Kíli’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, no... [Amad’s](mother's) going to kill me…” He whimpered.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> amad = mother  
> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield

_“I wonder how long it’s going to take Dís to get here?” Frerin mused._

_“Knowing[amad](mother), she’s already on her way and we can expected anytime within the next month or so.” Fíli said brightly from his perch in front of the fire._

_“I’ve asked Thorin if we can clean out her rooms, before she gets here.” Kíli was just as bright. “She won’t like arriving and then having to clean everything.”_

_“I wonder what she’s going to think of your betrothed, brother?” Fíli laughed. “You did tell her, didn’t you?”_

_Kíli’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, no.[Amad’s](mother's) going to kill me…” He whimpered._

Dís stalked from the assayer’s office into the dirty street, she’d barely taken a half-dozen steps before someone called her name.

“Lady Dís!” The dwarf was Dwalin's second in command and cousin on their mother’s side.

“Yes, Dwilik?” Dís stopped but only turned her head.

“My lady, there’s an elf at the gates, he says that he bears a message for you.” Dwilik replied.

“What is the message?”

“He won’t give it to anyone but you, my lady.” Dwilik answered. “Says that he was told to see it put into your hands, with his own eyes.”

“An elf, you say?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Armed?”

“No, my lady.” Dwilik shook his head. “Before he approached the gates, he removed all weapons and stripped down to little more than his under-things.”

Dís tilted her head in thought. “Did he say who the message was from?”

“Messages, my lady.” Dwilik replied. “And no, only that he carries five of them.”

“Five messages for me…” Dís’ eyes narrowed. “That had better be my brother and my sons, or I will have someone’s blood on my dagger.” She said bluntly.

“Yes, my lady.” Dwilik nodded quickly.

“Very well, Dwilik, lead the way to this elf.”

“Yes, my lady.” Dwilik nodded and gestured to one of the lesser gates. “This way, my lady.”

A short walk through the rough and dirty streets, brought them to one of the few stone buildings in their settlement. Dwilik lead Dís up a set of heavy timber steps and onto a small landing that was the second story of the building and allowed them to look over the heavy timber wall that surrounded the village. On the landing, Dís looked over the rough-cut logs and down onto the crude road below. A tall (they were always tall) elf stood in the middle of the track, wearing only trews and an undershirt.

“I’m told you bear messages for me, elf.” She said, ignoring the elf’s state of undress, better he was undressed than fully armed and attacking them.

“If you are the lady Dís, then yes, I do.”

“I am Dís.”

“I was told to ask, ‘what do you tell your brother when he’s in a temper’?”

“Usually to get his head out if his ass, but I doubt that’s what you mean.” Dís snorted.

“No.” The elf shook his head.

“Then it can only be ‘to put the thundercloud away, before sitting down to a meal at my table’.”

“The meal wasn’t mentioned but the rest?” The elf nodded. “Near enough.” He bent down to the bag at his feet, moving slowly and obviously, and stood up with it in his hands. “I bear messages for you, will you send a rope down for them? I was ordered to see them into your hands.”

“Wait there, elf.” Dís ordered. She retreated from the wall and climbed back down the steps and walked around into the gatehouse, itself. She nodded to the pair of dwarves manning the gate and with clear reluctance, they slowly opened the heavy wooden doors before opening the portcullis gate. Once it was open, Dís nodded to each dwarf and they fell into step behind her, as she left the gatehouse and approached the elf.

“You bear messages for me, elf.” She said.

“I do, lady Dís.” The elf went to his knees and held out the bag with both hands.

Dís nodded and took the bag, she stepped back a few steps and opened the bag, Inside were four slightly battered scrolls and a small metal box, about the size of a brick. The box made her frown, that… that was hers… Her hands lifted the box free of the bag and let the bag’s strap slide over her arm, her fingers touched the nearly forgotten sequence of stones that would let her open the box. Inside, there was a sheet of parchment and an earring belonging to their mother, Dís wore the other earring on a mourning braid at the back of her neck.

She removed the letter and gestured to one of the dwarves behind her to come forward and hold the box.

_Dís_

_We did it. Erebor is ours again. It wasn’t quite as we’d discussed but not far from it._

_The dragon is gone. Bard the Bowman will be Lord of Dale, as his ancestor once was, and in thanks we will help him and his rebuild what can be rebuilt. Dáin is sending a couple of building cohorts to get us started._

_Thranduil is much as we remember, an ass if ever we met one. But his son, I like. You’d best warn Birza, Gloín has signed a betrothal between Gimli and Legolas Greenleaf._

_Elrond of Rivendell, Galadriel of Lothlorien, Thranduil and Bard aided us in defending Erebor from orcs. It seems that Azog did not die at Azanulbizar as we had thought and hoped. We fought him twice since leaving Ered Luin. But he is dead this time, his head rests on a pike at Erebor’s gate, alongside his spawn’s. 25,000 orcs died at the combined swords and arrows of Erebor, Eryn Galen, Lothlorien, Rivendell and Dale but we lost less than a thousand of our allied troops. You sone were NOT among those killed. Nor injured, that dubious honour fell to me. It was Dwalin, myself and two others that removed Azog from life, while Fíli, Kíli, Legolas Greenleaf and Tauriel Firelily ended his spawn’s life._

_Kíli has signed a betrothal contract with Tauriel. Like Legolas, she forsook Eryn Galen and Thranduil to aid us. The reasons are known to me but are too sensitive to write here. Know that that I agree and wholeheartedly support them._

_To lessen your ire at my words, I also present you something that you said would never happen._

_I am betrothed. My husband-to-be is currently our[Uzbadya Imrikh](Royal%20Shield). Dwalin watched as our hobbit gave his Oath of Service. Since that point he has stood between me and death a dozen or more times and is right now, badgering your sons into behaving as princes before Thranduil. I am stuck in the healing rooms until I can get my hand and arm to respond the way Oín and Elrond say they should, which leaves the Company in charge._

_Thankfully, Balin and Bilbo have things fairly much in hand. Not one of the Company are brave enough to go against Bilbo when he orders them around._

_Erebor is ours, sister. Get started on whatever plans you have in that head of yours. It’s time to bring our people home._

_Make a stop at the Great Smials in Tuckborough and speak to Fortinbras, the Thain of the Shire, he’ll be sending a small caravan of hobbits this way. They’ll tend the earth, here and get it back under crops._

_The elf that delivered this should be Tellayen or his partner Lirilla. Both have left Eryn Galen to save the lives of those outside the forest and I have offered them places in Erebor. I do not know that I TRUST him, yet but I do trust that he will not offer insult deliberately. Nor will he allow harm to come to you or our people._

_There are things I would show you, that you will not believe without seeing for yourself._

_It’s time to come home, sister._

_Thorin._

“Well, now…” Dís whispered to herself. “Betrothal? An Uzbadya Imrikh? A hobbit Uzbadya Imrikh? Hmm…” The turned from the letter in her hand to the elf. “Are you Tellayen or Lirilla?”

“I am Tellayen, lady Dís. My wife, Lirilla waits at the creek.” He pointed to the south and the small wood of trees that lined the creek.

“My brother says that you would not offer harm to me or my people.” Dís said.

“No, lady.” Tellayen shook his head. “You are sister to the one I will call king, one who has offered my wife and I places within his kingdom. Lirilla and I have decided that if he will accept us, we will live our lives in the mountain.”

“Then be welcome to Thorin’s Gate, Tellayen of Erebor.” Dís heard the sharply drawn in breaths of the guards at her back. “Fetch your wife, we have much to discuss.” She turned from Tellayen and re-entered the gatehouse, emerging on the other side, she started giving orders.

“See that the elves are brought to my brother’s house, they are his envoys and will be welcomed as such. Tellayen of Erebor has gone to fetch his wife, Lirilla. They have forsaken the trees of Eryn Galen for the caverns of Erebor.” More sharp breaths were heard, but no-one disagreed with her. “Send for Farli, Tarrin, Luka and Sharni. Tell them to go to Thorin’s house, we have plans to set in motion.” She paused, partially for effect and partially in disbelief of what she was about to say.

“ ** _Dwarves of Erebor_ …”** the entire village seemed to go silent at her call. **_“…It’s time to go home. Erebor awaits.”_**

Silence reigned for a few seconds, before a vast cheer rang out.

“All mines are to shut. All stores bar those selling food, are to close.” Her voice cut through the cheering and within seconds, there was a respectful and anticipatory hush. “All wagoneers are to come to the square. All homes are to pack in preparation for our return. Any that wish to stay in Ered Luin, please notify Mitla. No-one will be penalised for wanting to stay.”

She nodded to those nearby and headed for the mine offices, as she rounded the corner into the main street, she saw Tellayen and another elf, who she assumed was Lirilla coming back up the road towards the gatehouse. There was so much to do before they headed for Erebor and winter was nearly at its worst.

As dusk fell, Dís sat back and watched those at her brother’s table. A pair of elves and two pair of dwarves. All discussing what was needed to move hundreds of people over a thousand miles from Ered Luin to Erebor.

It wasn’t until Lirilla mentioned the Shirelings, that Dís remembered Thorin’s letter and hastily called for a volunteer to go to the Shire to see if the hobbits were ready to leave or if they would wait until the spring.

For nearly eight hours, they’d talked, laying out a rough plan for the move. Eight hours where dwarf and elf talked and debated. Eight hours of negotiations. But finally, a plan was made.

Now they just had to put it into effect.

Farli took his list and notes and headed for the mines and the miners and stonemasons. They were vital to the rebuilding of Erebor. More so than the shopkeepers and merchants. They were to be among the first to be sent off.

Tarrin took his papers and headed for the square and the wagoneers, he needed to know exactly, how many ponies and oxen they had, how many wagons they had and how much cargo they could carry or wagons they could pull.

Luka had her notes and she was headed to Mitla then to the communal storehouse, she needed to know how many would be staying in Ered Luin and have the storehouse manager put aside produce for them. The rest would be going to Erebor and she would need to meet with Tarrin to sort out how much could go at any one time. After that she would be speaking to the merchants and traders.

Sharni’s notes had her heading for the houses and homes of the villagers.

Tellayen and Lirilla went with Dwilik to the guardrooms. They would have to work out a roster, they would need to have guards for the caravan but also for any that stayed behind or for any subsequent caravans, if they didn’t have enough wagons.

As she sat at Thorin’s empty table a pile of notes and parchment in front of her, Dís remembered that Thorin’s wasn’t the only message that Tellayen had brought. There were four other letters for her to read.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield

_As she sat at Thorin’s empty table a pile of notes and parchment in front of her, Dís remembered that Thorin’s wasn’t the only message that Tellayen had brought. There were four other letters for her to read._

Dís studied the four letters spread out on Thorin’s table. Did she really want to know what was in them?

Balin. Fíli. Gloín. And an unknown hand.

Best start with the important one.

She picked up Gloín’s letter and opened it.

**_Dís and Birza_ **

**_This whole trip has been confusing._ **

**_First Thorin calls for warriors to reclaim Erebor and we all saw how well that went. They were all right behind him, hundreds of them, until they were reminded that the dragon was still there. Then there were just the dozen of us._ **

**_Next is the wizard. Don’t get me started on how useless he is. Oh, surely, he came in handy when we were captured by goblins, but for the rest of the time, all he’s done is argue with Thorin and whinge about how we have to trust him. Why should we? He’s done little for us in the past, Thorin’s the one that saw to the livelihoods of our people, not the wizard._ **

**_And he brought us to the hobbit. Now, there is a being worthy of Thorin. Not that we thought that, to begin with. He seemed a soft little thing, more a grocer than a fighter, but he’s proved us wrong. I saw him take down a warg with just a single dagger. And the rage on his face when Thorin faced Azog? I’m not sure who he was more angry with. Four orcs died under his blades that night, all because they got between him and Thorin._ **

**_He’s just about as protective of your boys, as he is of Thorin. And they listen to him. I’d have never believed it, if I hadn’t seen it, firsthand._ **

**_We thought Thorin was hiring him, but it turns out that Bilbo was planning to stay in Erebor before we even knew he existed. He’d sold up his home and all his holdings. He’s a wealthy hobbit, turns out his grandfather was the old Thain, Gerontius Took. He was also the Head of the Baggins Family, at least until he handed it to his cousin, to come away with us._ **

**_But come away with us he did. It took us quite a while to realise that he wasn’t as soft as the other hobbits. Actually, I don’t think we really worked it out until we were nearly passed Eryn Galen._ **

**_And that’s another thing. We now have a pair of elves. Thranduil’s son, Legolas Greenleaf left the forest to join us, he and his shield sister Tauriel Firelily. Within seconds of entering the building we were staying in, they swore their swords to Thorin._ **

**_After that the stupid wizard kept trying to order us into Eryn Galen, called it our only option for crossing the forest. Thorin and Bilbo put him in his place quite neatly. Even Balin presented a different option, albeit a longer trek then Bilbo’s. From where we were, it was going to be nearly 500 miles to Erebor. If we followed the wizard’s path, we also risked being captured by Thranduil and spending Mahal knows how long in his dungeons. But Bilbo suggested going north. Yes, it was going to add another 50 odd miles, but we’d have clear streams and good hunting, in the forest we’d have neither._ **

**_That was where we were when Thorin decided that he had to protect the elves that had joined us._ **

**_And this is where it gets personal for me, for us._ **

**_Thorin, Balin, Dwalin and I talked it over for hours, we put plan after plan on the ground, but Balin swept all of them away, none of them would have stood up it,_** **_had_ ** **_Thranduil demanded we hand him, Legolas and Tauriel. Until Dwalin remembered Durin IV and how he stopped a war by convincing the leader of the Blacklocks, Menlo, to betroth his daughter Vinta to Torban, the sister-son of Sorbi, the Stonefoots clan chief._ **

**_So that’s what we did. I signed a betrothal between our Gimli and Legolas and watched as Tauriel and Kíli signed their own contract. Then we all watched as Thorin and Bilbo signed theirs. Thank Kíli for that, he was the one to suggest that Thranduil would get his nose out of joint at his son marrying a lesser royal while one of his guards marries a prince and demand the contract be amended to Thorin. We all knew that none of our dwarves would be happy about Thorin or Fíli marrying an elf, so we made it look like Thranduil was punishing Legolas for disobeying his orders by marrying him off to a lesser ranked dwarf._ **

**_It worked. After the reclamation, Thranduil signed off on the contracts and officially released Legolas and Tauriel from all their positions and duties in Eryn Galen._ **

**_Oh, I left out the hobbit becoming our[Uzbadya Imrikh](Royal%20Shield). Not really sure how that happened. I mean, after the wargs and orcs, that I mentioned earlier, he took the Oath, but while we were sorting out the contracts, it was said that he took the Oath two years ago. I don’t know which it is. But even if we just go on this trip? Mahal, has he earnt it! I can clearly count 7 times that he’s stepped between Thorin, Fíli, Kíli and someone trying to kill them._ **

**_He fights like an assassin, one completely devoted to Thorin. Dáin’s dwarves have started to call him Bilbo Kingsblade. You know the Oath. ‘My blades are your to claim. My life is yours to claim.’ He’s very clear about it, the only blades he carries are ones that Thorin made and that if Thorin orders, he will act. The wizard gave him one and he laughed, said he would give it to his cousin Drogo, for his son._ **

**_As long as no-one tries to harm Thorin, Fíli or Kíli, he seems to be quite happy to stand to the side._ **

**_And that brings me to the latest additions to our Company._ **

**_Bard the bowman was the one to kill the dragon and Thorin has reminded him, that his ancestors were the Lords of Dale and that we (Erebor that is) will help in the restoration of the city._ **

**_Birza, my love, are you missing something?_ **

**_I reached Dale to find our son calmly talking to Thorin._ **

**_Our son, Birza!_ **

**_He had to have gone missing shortly after we left, why in Mahal’s name did you not send me a raven? Our son had to have be missing for months and no-one thought to tell me?_ **

**_I’d have given him a thrashing, if he hadn’t taken so well to Dwalin's lessons. And by, ‘so well’, I mean he’s excelled so much that not even Dwalin can best the boy._ **

**_The other lad is younger, a lot younger, not even 50 yet, but he fights like a 300yr old veteran. Watching him is ~_**

**_I’ve never seen the like before and I doubt that I will ever see it again. Thorin’s taken him in and Bilbo is treating him like family. When his family arrive, there’ll be some screaming going on, I wager._ **

**_Oín and I have been working on cleaning up our parents’ and grandparents’ rooms. It’s been decided that Birza and I will move into our grandfather Farin’s rooms, they have bedrooms that Gimli and_ ** **_Razdâna can have, where our father, Groín’s, rooms were a couples’ suite, no extra bedrooms. Oín will be moving into those._**

**_Thorin’s asked me to take on the task of processing the treasury, Bilbo’s going to help, eventually, but it’s going to be a massive job, Birza. I’m going to need all the help I can get._ **

**_Oín’s going to run the Healers’ Hall, of course. We could expect nothing else. Elrond of Rivendell is helping for the moment. We’re hoping that a couple of the elves that Elrond and Galadriel have released from service, that want to stay in Erebor, are healers. They’re all so restrained that it’s hard to tell if an elf is craft-wed or not._ **

**_Bifur’s already stepped back into his post as Thorin’s manservant, he and Bilbo have taken on the management of Thorin, Fíli and Kíli and have some interesting plans to keep them under control. Mostly involving Bilbo’s cooking, I’ll admit._ **

**_Balin is happy bossing around a cohort from Dáin, they’re getting rid of the orc and warg bodies. I’ve no idea, yet, how we’re going to dispose of them, probably burn them, it’s all they deserve. It’s going to be another week or two before we start on the mountain, we really need the valley cleared, the chance of orc blood infecting the soil is too great. We need to get them out of the way._ **

**_Food’s not too bad, Elrond brought a lot, as did Galadriel and Thranduil. Bard’s people are excellent fishermen and the elves bring in a lot of game, it’s just the greens that are in short supply. Not enough that we’re likely to get sick, it's just that most of it goes in stews and soups, rather than dishes by themselves. Come spring, the hobbits will take on the framing, thank Mahal, they know what they're doing. For the present we’re doing well, eating well, at least as well as we did at Ered Luin with the prospect of it being even better come spring and summer._ **

**_I’m sure Balin’s written a long letter giving you all the details you didn’t want, so I’m going to leave this at this point._ **

**_We’re all alive and Thorin was the only that was significantly injured, but even he’s well enough to be whinging about being restricted to the healers’ rooms. He wants to get us into the mountain before the worst of the winter hits and while I agree, we can’t forget about outside the mountain, too._ **

**_I know that you, Dís, have a multitude of plans for bringing out people home and I look forward to seeing Erebor filled with dwarves._ **

**_Birza, my love, I’m sorry it will be up to you and Razdâna to pack up our home and all our animals. I had expected that Gimli would be there to assist you, but it seems that the Valar had other plans for him._ **

**_I long to see your beautiful face, my love._ **

**_Hurry home._ **

**_Gloín._ **

Well, that answered a lot of questions, now didn’t it?

Dís huffed a sigh and shook her head. She knew that Gimli had vanished, just a few days after his father and she like many others, including Birza, had assumed that he’d snuck off to join the Company. But what of the other dwarf? Gloín said he was younger than Gimli and as far as she knew they weren’t missing any other dwarflings. Maybe he came from a different settlement? Perhaps he had listened to Thorin’s call and met up with Gimli on the road? Who knew? Gloín’s letter didn’t say.

She laid it down and made a note on a sheet of parchment, to take the letter to Birza, she should know what her husband had written.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield  
> amad = mother  
> Irak’adad = Uncle  
> umhul-inm = deed-name  
> mrilî astî = love you
> 
> Note: Yes, Fíli has a new nickname, Fíli Golden Demon (from chptr1) came mostly from the Company and Splitswords is what Dáin’s dwarves have decided to call him. A description of why Kíli earnt the name is next chapter, please be patient.

_Well, that answered a lot of questions, now didn’t it?_

_Dís huffed a sigh and shook her head. She knew that Gimli had vanished, just a few days after his father and she like many others, including Birza had assumed that he’d snuck off to join the Company. But what of the other dwarf? Gloín said he was younger than Gimli and as far as she knew they weren’t missing any other dwarflings. Maybe he came from a different settlement? Perhaps he had listened to Thorin’s call and met up with Gimli on the road? Who knew? Gloín’s letter didn’t say._

_She laid it down and made a note on a sheet of parchment, to take the letter to Birza, she should know what her husband had written._

But until Birza’s shift in the healers’ rooms was finished, Dís had time to read the other letters the elf had brought. Her hand was quiet as she picked up Balin’s letter, even if her heart was racing.

Erebor… They were going home to Erebor.

**_Lady Dís._ **

**_Greetings and salutations, cousin._ **

**_I’ll keep this short, as I’ve read Gloín’s letter and for the most part, he’s covered all the salient details._ **

**_Erebor is ours. Gimli is here and betrothed to Legolas Greenleaf. Kíli is betrothed to Tauriel Firelily. Thorin is betrothed to Bilbo Baggins, who is currently our[Uzbadya Imrikh](Royal%20Shield). We have agreements or treaties with Thranduil of Eryn Galen, Elrond of Rivendell, Galadriel of Lothlorien and Bard of Dale. Dáin has lent us a building cohort to get us started. And we will be moving into the mountain in a week or two._ **

**_That’s the official summary._ **

**_On the personal side of things. Kíli has finally started to braid his hair, even if he’s only wearing beads for skill and betrothal. Fíli snapped the blade of Níli’s dagger, but Thorin seems to think that he can repair it. Dori has discovered that Ori’s quite capable of removing multiple orc heads in one swing with Dwalin's backup axe. Nori has discovered that he’ll lose if he challenges Bilbo in a knife throwing contest, the hobbit is the best that any of us have ever seen when it comes to throwing things. Any things, including knives, rocks, boots, food, pots and he has scarily good aim with a frying pan. Oín’s had the chance to watch elven healers at work (on Thorin, at that) and is in raptures about getting to learn some of their techniques._ **

**_Gloín was furious to find Gimli waiting for us at Dale, mind Thorin wasn’t much better. Gimli is turning out to be surprisingly good at supply management and is assigned to work with_** **_Thorin and_ ** **_run any errands he may want done, along with the other lad. Dwalin tested Gimli personally and he’s more than a little surprised at how much skill Gimli has been hiding. Bofur’s still much the same, although he was quite good with the battle rams. Bombur has already taken over the kitchens for the royal levels, I don’t think he trusts anyone other than Bilbo, or himself, to cook for Thorin and the boys. Bifur’s stepped back into his duties as Thorin’s manservant, although he’s done that quietly all the way._ **

**_Thorin’s being held in the healers’ rooms, until he can move his hand and arm move the way Oín and Elrond want. He’s as taciturn about being injured, as he ever is, Bilbo seems to treat him much the same as you and you mother did. Brings him parchmentwork and food to keep him occupied and ignores the complaints._ **

**_For the most part Bilbo and I are left riding herd on the Company. After the last few months, I believe that we’ve become quite proficient at knowing when to distract someone and how._ **

**_We’re nearly finished with the exterior clean-up, that had to happen before we started on the interior or we risked pestilence and disease. Another day or two and we’ll be looking to move into the mountain, then we face the monumental task of clearing up after the dragon._ **

**_There is good news, though. Tharkûn went through and cleansed the treasury, apparently Thrór had brought cursed gold into the mountain, years before Smaug attacked. He thinks that this may be why Smaug attacked in the first place, the scent of it drawing him in. It took the wizard two whole days to lift the curses and remove any taint from the beast._ **

**_Thorin’s going to have a few of the youngsters from Dale look through the treasury for Thranduil’s White Gems, the sooner we can find them and get his commission finished, the happier Thorin will be. For the present, Thranduil’s waiting patiently but we all know that’s not going to last. Hence, why Thorin’s involving the children, they’re too young to help in the rebuilding of either Dale or Erebor and this gives them something to do, lets them feel involved and their parents will know where to find them._ **

**_We’ve worked out a schedule of work for cleaning up the mountain’s interior, some accommodation will be done immediately, but a lot will be left for later. Some suites have been assigned, either back to the dwarf whose rooms they were, before Smaug attacked, or to a family member, some have been assigned rooms based on how many in a family. Bombur and his brood wouldn’t fit in a standard suite, we’re having to knock part of a wall through between two family suites jsut to accommodate them all._ **

**_We do understand that once you and the caravan from Ered Luin arrive, we may have to change our plans but until you arrive, we’re doing what we can._ **

**_Thorin’s doing well, running things from the healers’ room but we really need him outside, in front of our people, they need to see him, to see that he’s recovering. He’s our king and they need to know that the throne is secure. For now, Fíli and Kíli are the faces of the royal family and I have to admit, they are doing a fine job. Working themselves to exhaustion alongside the troops, each day, only to get up and do it again the next day. It’s a massively positive thing. No-one wants to let them down by quitting. Their energy is nearly boundless and anyone that sees them or works alongside them, finds their spirits lifted._ **

**_Níli would be very proud of them, as you should be._ **

**_I will stop here, Oín wants Bilbo and I to be present when he checks Thorin over, to remind him that he is our king and our people need him to be recovered, not around walking wounded, being impatient won't make him heal faster._ **

**_Balin._ **

That was interesting. It was good to know that her boys were well respected by the troops.

She picked up Fíli’s letter.

**Hello[Amad](mother)**

**We miss you.**

**It’s been a long trip. Good but long. We’re working hard and keeping busy. The clean-up is a nightmare, bodies and body parts everywhere, thank Mahal that so few of them are dwarven or elven bodies. But orc blood is sticky and smells bad, getting out of our clothes is hard, we tend to wear the same clothes for a few days and then jump in the river to wash them.**

**We lost so few, given the numbers that we faced. Elrond and Thranduil think that Azog and Bolg must have brought about 30,000 orcs, goblins, giants and trolls to Erebor. Very few of them left alive, maybe a few thousand, if that. Kíli and I worked with Legolas Greenleaf and Tauriel Firelily to take down Bolg, while[Irak’adad](Uncle) teamed up with Bilbo, Dwalin and another dwarf to kill Azog. [Irak’adad](Uncle) got hurt pretty bad, but he’s recovering well, still having problems with his arm, it’s going to be a while before he has full use of it, again. By the time you get here, he should be back at the anvil.**

**I need to talk to you and[Irak’adad](Uncle) about the future of our kingdom, as I think that I’m going to be craft-wed. I’ve not felt a calling before and figured that I wasn’t going to, but now that I’m here? I think I am. I think that rebuilding Erebor is my craft, so I’m not sure what to do about the future. About an heir. Yes, Kíli’s betrothed and technically, I could say that his first son will be my heir, but I’m not sure how well that will go down, a half-elf on the throne of Erebor. Bilbo suggested that I claim an orphan and make their children my heir, but I’m uncertain.**

**Will you think about it as you travel and let me know your thoughts? Please?**

**I’d better go, we’re moving Smaug further away from the gates, tomorrow and I haven’t had a wash or anything to eat, yet, and I’m starving.**

**Oh, I almost forgot, Kíli has an[umhul-inm](deed-name), finally. Dáin’s people have taken to calling him Bowbreaker because he shattered [adad’s](dad's) bow taking off Bolg’s head. He felt really bad about it, later, but Thorin told him that adad would consider it a fair trade. Lady Galadriel offered to see if her bowyer could repair it but it would mean having to send the pieces to Lothlorien. Kíli said that he couldn’t do it without your agreement, that the bow meant so much to both you and him.**

[ **Imrilî astî** ](love%20you)

**Fíli Splitswords**

“Oh, my golden child…” Dís smiled as she read the signature. “Your father would be so jealous, to see Erebor reclaimed was his dream, almost as much as it was Thorin’s.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield  
> Khuzdul = dwarf language  
> Angerthas = dwarven runes  
> azhâr-anzar = house-steward  
> umhul-inm = deed-names  
> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield

_“Oh, my golden child…” Dís smiled as she read the signature. “Your father would be so jealous, to see Erebor reclaimed was his dream, almost as much as it was Thorin’s.”_

Dís looked at the last letter and wondered who it was from. Opening the letter, she caught her breath in surprise, the letter itself was written in [Khuzdul](dwarf%20language) in [angerthas](dwarven%20runes).

**_Dís_ **

**_I’ll leave it to Balin and Gloín to give you the official details. If I were in your position, I’d be more concerned with the family, now that you’ve had the formal summary, so unless it concerns one of the lads or Thorin, I won’t go into too much detail._ **

**_Starting at the beginning is always best, I’ve found._ **

**_The boys were the first to get to Bag End and both remembered their manners, as far as waiting for the rest of the Company to arrive, before eating. They even waited for everyone to sit and fill a plate before inhaling everything left._ **

**_Shock of all shocks, Thorin didn’t get lost. And he wasn’t late._ **

**_No-one broke anything and Nori didn’t ‘lift’ anything, which I find even more shocking._ **

**_Thorin made sure that everyone had an elven blade from the troll’s hoard. Tharkûn told us that elven blades will glow blue when orcs or goblins are near, so Thorin insisted that we all take one as an early warning system. We parcelled out the coins in the hoard but made sure that most of the jewellery and other items were returned to the elves of Rivendell, if they could identify them. A token of good will, if you like._ **

**_Most of the Company lost their packs in Goblintown, but we were fortunate that Beorn gave us leather to make new packs. From his place near the Anduin we went north, around the forest, Legolas, Tauriel and Beorn had all warned us that Thranduil would likely have arrested us and thrown us in his dungeons, if we went through the forest. Something we wanted to avoid._ **

**_Up to the north we found an abandoned village of Men, that Beorn and Legolas had told us about, there we were able to refill our packs, with clothes, weapons and dried foods. It was abandoned due to being cut off by flood, apparently the villagers left taking only what they could carry and no-one’s been back since._ **

**_We adjusted the market manager’s stock listings, stating what we took and we’ve already sent Bofur and a contingent made up of dwarves, Men and elves to bring as much as they can, back here. They’ll bring back as much food stuffs as they can, firstly, after that they’ll look to clothing and furniture, depending on how transportable things are._ **

**_Fíli and Kíli are working themselves to exhaustion most days, they’re not doing it to set examples, but that’s what they are. Examples of a royal family that aren’t afraid to get in and get dirty. A royal family that don’t expect their people to do something that they won’t, unless of, it’s not something they know how to do. Which, given how well you and Thorin have taught them, is very little. They are well rounded dwarves that make people stop and think, ‘if a prince can do that, I can do that’. Their boost the the moral of people around them is huge._ **

**_Your rooms are among the first to be cleaned, after those that we will be living in, of course. Thorin’s going to be moving into your grandfather’s rooms, the King’s suite, while Fíli will be in the Heir’s suite that your father and mother had. Kíli will take over Thorin’s old rooms and yours will always be yours._ **

**_Balin will have his father’s rooms and Dwalin will take the Captain of Guard’s rooms. The Ur brothers have taken rooms in the Market Quarter, no matter how much Thorin argues with them, they won’t take rooms on the Royal Levels._ **

**_The Ri brothers have finally acquiesced to Thorin’s demands that they are Durins and Durins are to be housed in the Royal Levels, they’re just a few rooms over from Gloín and Birza, who has taken Farin’s old rooms._ ** **_They are now acknowledged as sons of the Line of Durin, albeit distant sons. Dori has stepped forward as[azhâr-anzar](house-steward) for the Royal Levels, Ori will be in the library, he’s one of only a few scribes and the only one of the Durin Line. Nori is Nori, Thorin has him working as head of information and intelligence. Their positions aren’t grand but even Dáin had allowed them as suitable for illegitimate but acknowledged children of the line of Durin._ **

**_Bombur is running the kitchens for the Company, I don’t think he believes that anyone else has earnt that right and is vicious in attacking any that try to take it over. Bofur is, as I said earlier, in charge of retrieving anything he can from the abandoned village at Windrock, after that he’s decided that he likes working with the battle rams and war boars. Bifur is Thorin’s manservant, he’s always been that and will be until he can physically not do so._ **

**_The younger lads now have_ ** **_[umhul-inm](deed-names), given to them by Dáin’s dwarves. _ **

**_Fíli is now Fíli Splitswords. Charging the field with a sword in each hand and using them almost like a pair of scissors was not something that Dáin’s dwarves or the elves had ever expected to see. Many orcs lost their heads or hands to those two swords and as both swords are identical, there are rumours about them. One has spread that it’s only one sword that Fíli can split into two if he wants, another rumour is that they’re two swords that he can join together to make one stronger sword. Both rumours agreed that he is Fíli Splitswords._ **

**_Kíli is now Kíli Bowbreaker._ ** **_He broke used the bow, string-side first, to take Bolg’s head off and the impact snapped the bow from the string-side. He wasn’t aware that the fight between he, Fíli, Tauriel and Legolas against Bolg was clearly witnessed by a lot of Dáin’s dwarves, who couldn’t figure out why Kíli dropped his sword and used a bow to decapitate Bolg, but as it worked? He's now Kíli Bowbreaker._ **

**_Gimli is isn’t sure whether to be pleased with his appellation or not. Gimli Axe-haft. The blade came off his axe but instead of dropping the haft and taking up a sword, he used the haft as a cudgel and even as a spear a couple of times._ **

**_Even Ori has an umhul-inm, now. Ori Knife-Axe. He was using Dwalin's backup axe and clearly has the Ri strength. No hacking or chopping at orcs for Ori Ri, he used an axe almost like a butcher uses a knife, he just sliced through anything that got too close._ **

**_All the lads now have their warriors’ beads, or at least a stone bead that will be replaced as soon as we get the forges up and going. That’s going to be a monumental task and I’m glad that I’m not involved in that._ **

**_Thranduil’s commission is still not done, but Thorin’s asked Bard for the loan of some of the Men’s children to sort through the treasury. They can’t help in the rebuilding but this is giving them a sense of involvement and they’re all excited to do something to help._ **

**_On your way east, stop in Shire at Tuckborough, there should be a small caravan to come this way, if they haven’t already left. Be prepared to be feasted as family. My counsin Fortinbras is Thain, after his father, and most of the Shire is under the impression that I’ve left to be with Thorin. Caused a great scandal, I did, running off with a dwarf, abandoning my position as Head of the Baggins Family._ **

**_What most of the Shire don’t know is that I’ve spoken with Fortinbras and I won’t be the only one to leave the Shire. Seven families are releasing members to come to Erebor._ **

**_The Brandybucks and the Tooks are letting Gorbadoc Brandybuck and his wife Mirabella go. Mirabella’s brother Adalgrim is bringing his son, Paladin and youngest daughter, Esmarelda, and the two youngsters they are courting, Eglantine Banks and Saradoc Brandybuck._ **

**_My cousin Fosco is sending his barely adult son and daughter-in-law, Drogo and Primula, who only recently married. The Boffins are allowing three sons to come east, Seeto, Marlo and Berto. The Chubbs are letting a number of their children come, two sons, Edwin and Tomas and four daughters, Emma, Sarah, Belinda and Susan. Hamfast Gamgee is the only one from his family coming, but he is bringing his wife, Bell. I have no idea how many Seedwrights and Bolgers are coming but between the two families there’s supposed to be five couples and eleven children._ **

**_You’ll be welcomed and feasted as family, but if you want to really endear yourselves to hobbits, bring some toys for the children. Something with interlocking pieces, hobbits aren’t good at making connecting things. But keep it simple, nothing too elaborate. If you can find some seeds, the adult hobbit will appreciate it, food plants or flowers, it doesn’t really matter. A plant from your own garden will be a precious gift and will see you being almost adopted by a family._ **

**_And if you would? Please remind Fortinbras to send along my armchair and the crib that Uncle Isengar gave mother as a wedding gift? I’ve pretty much got everything else sorted but if anyone has space, there’s plenty in the back storage room, left for a later trip. I had planned to ask Bofur to make an extra trip come summer, but if anyone has the room, I’d be very grateful for anything anyone brings._ **

**_I’m doing the best I can to keep Thorin in line, but it’s a struggle at times. I hope that he’ll be out of the healers’ rooms in time to move into the mountain, but if he keeps arguing with Oín, that might not be the case. Even if he does get out, he won’t be allowed to anything physical, he’ll be stuck with parchmentwork for weeks, something he’s not happy about. Gimli and his friend are doing a great job being Thorin’s legs, doing his running and taking messages all over the mountain. They, along with Fíli and Kíli are making life as easy as they can, I know Thorin appreciates it, he just can’t participate in it physically just yet._ **

**_Anyway, we’re doing well. The boys are well, eating well and keeping out of trouble. Mind, they’re too tired to get into trouble, most days. They are so looking forward to you getting here, I think they’re resisting going exploring as they want you to show them around. Show them all your favourite places to hide from your brothers._ **

**_I look forward to showing you what we’ve done._ **

**_Bilbo Baggins_ **

**_[Uzbadya Imrikh](Royal%20Shield)._ **

Dís was astounded that this hobbit wrote to her as though she were a member of his family. The hints about the Shire were a welcome insight and she quickly wrote them on a slip of parchment. She needed to take these letters to Birza, she needed to know what was happening with her husband and son. She wasn’t going to be pleased with Gimli.


	21. Chapter 21

_Dís was astounded that this hobbit wrote to her as though she were a member of his family. The hints about the Shire were a welcome insight and she quickly wrote them on a slip of parchment. She needed to take these letters to Birza, she needed to know what was happening with her husband and son. She wasn’t going to be pleased with Gimli._

The next few weeks passed in a fog of busyness interspersed with the occasional quiet moment, that made the busyness even more pronounced. Later Dís would only recall those quiet times and the odd flash of hurried discussions or quickly voiced orders.

The actual act of leaving Ered Luin, and the homes they’d lived in for decades, was scarcely given a thought in the scramble to pack everything they were taking to Erebor. Dís and the families of Thorin’s Company had been given a little forewarning, they all knew how stubborn Thorin was, this had nagged at Dís and Birza for weeks after their menfolk left. The nagging was so strong that eventually, Dís spoke to Birza and the two decided that they would pack now, as when Thorin sent word, there would be little time for their personal packing, they would be too busy organising the packing of the entire settlement.

Dís saw the chests from her cottage, those belonging to herself, Fíli and Kíli, packed onto a small wagon, along with Gloín, Birza, Razdâna and Gimli’s chests. Pots, pans, blankets and more were carefully folded and stowed in the wagon-bed. At the front of the wagon were the chests from Thorin’s house, Thorin’s two big chests, one having been their parents’ and the other Thorin’s, then there was the misshapen chest that their younger brother made for himself.

Why Thorin had packed it and placed it with the others, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t about to second-guess Thorin now. He would have a reason, she just didn’t know what it was.

Seeing her people trailing behind her, all of them on foot, so that every pony, donkey or ox was either pulling a cart or carrying baggage, gave Dís a thrill, she wasn’t sure whether it was fear or pride or happiness. She’d felt all of them in equal measure over the few days it had taken for the settlement to marshal their resources.

It was going to be a long trip on foot. The few children they had were carefully positioned, the youngest were carried, not by parents but by sheep or goats. Older children rolled posts that formed the enclosures for sheep, keeping them and the goats together was going to be their challenge. The only pregnant dwarrowdam was early enough in her pregnancy to be still able to walk easily and was currently the one directing the older children, that would continue until she was forced to ride in a wagon. The two permanently injured dwarves were driving the two wagons that carried all the settlement’s poultry, along with the three dwarflings that were recovering from being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Entering the Shire was a quiet event, everyone was tired and night was drawing near. Dís and Tellayen had hurried ahead and spoken to the Mayor of Michael Delving, getting permission for the dwarven caravan, all thirteen-hundred and eighty-seven of them, to camp on the common and along the riverbank. They rested the following day and met with the Mayor, the village’s Shirriff and the local Bounder’s leader. The entire village knew of Erebor and that hobbits were going to be joining the caravan as it passed through Tuckborough.

Three families of hobbits asked to join them and when Dís agreed, the entire village turned out to help them sort and pack their home, in a matter of hours. They were given their choice of wagons and ponies to pull them, on the condition that any dwarves coming west would return the wagons, preferably sometime the following year.

Children were given hastily carved and pieced toys. Snakes that twisted, lizards whose legs moved as they rolled along the ground and birds that flapped in the breeze. Their laughter filled the late autumn cool will brightness and cheer.

The Great Smials in Tuckborough were warm and inviting and a part of Dís wanted to stay in them forever but Erebor was calling her name and filling her dreams at night. Meeting the young folk that were travelling with them was an adventure in itself, bright colours and loud voices, laughter, cheer and food. So much food…

More toys were given and the children here were just as excited as those in Michael Delving. Dís was thankful that she’d paid attention to Bilbo Baggins’ letter and dug up some of the plants that she’d struggled to grow in the poor ground of Ered Luin. Herbs and vegetable seedlings were divvied up and handed out to many young people and seeds were bartered for ferociously. The arguments loud and long, causing Dís and Birza to shake their heads in bemusement.

The Thain assured them that this was a normal scene when visitors came bearing gifts.

The letter from Bilbo was handed over and the Thain issued orders. Runners were sent to Hobbiton and Bag End. A wagon from Tuckborough was quickly put together and driven by a brother and sister team from Michael delving, with a local hobbit as a guide, and sent off to Hobbiton, while the rest of the caravan settled in the fields below the Smials.

With the hobbits swelling the caravan’s number to well over fourteen hundred, the fields were the only places large enough for them.

As they approached Bree, the hobbits handed over their wagons to the dwarves and descended on the town, laying waste to the market and emptying many shops. Fourteen hundred were a lot of mouths to feed and the food for livestock was just as important. Dís spoke to the few dwarves in the town and told them of Erebor’s reclamation, all but one decided to join them.

Passing the turn-off to Rivendell, Dís was surprised to find elves waiting for them, elves with meals prepared and bags of trail food for the crossing of the mountain. Two nights they stayed on the eastern bank of the Bruinen River, preparing for the climb into the mountains.

The mountains were cold and dry, finding drinking water for almost fifteen hundred people and nearly four times that many animals was hard, in places they were forced to melt snow above braziers that hung from poles and were constantly lit. Other times they would find a creek or where a spring burst from the ground and would spend time filling whatever barrels and waterskins were empty. Greens were often found by their hobbits, stretching out the limited meat reserves and the occasional deer or boar that were brought in were treated as an almost celebratory treat. Coming down from the mountains, into the warmer air was a relief to them all, the younger children and elderly, in particular. Crossing the Anduin let them fill all water vessels and the plentiful dry grass was harvested as they went for hay for their animals.

It was here that another letter from Thorin reached them, a brief note about the land ahead.

**_Dís_ **

**_I hope that this reaches you before you leave the mountains too far behind you._ **

**_Whilst the Company and I travelled north around the forest, it would be better for the caravan to stay on the East-West Road, as our path crossed many creeks and few of them were fordable by wagons. Thranduil had offered an elf patrol, to escort you from the western edge of the forest to the eastern side of the River Running. From there we should be able to have you met by either some of Dáin’s dwarves or Bard’s people, not sure which yet._ **

**_Either way, they will lead you north to Dale and Erebor. We haven’t finished clearing the rubble from Dale, yet, but a path through the town is clear, as is the road to Erebor. Tellayen reached here, the last night and we spent most of today with Dori, working out accommodation for those with you. We think we’ve got it but there’s likely to be a few changes as time progresses._ **

**_Everyone is restless and longing to see those in the caravan, no fights yet, but I think that’s mostly Bilbo. When someone starts to get jumpy, he puts them to work in the kitchens or clearing rocks from the valley between Erebor and Dale. It seems to work, he usually has a crew of a dozen or so and Bombur always as plenty of help in the kitchen._ **

**_Once you reach the forest, we estimate that you should be here well inside the month. Hopefully before the worst of the winter hits._ **

**_The weather’s turning chill, but Thranduil’s elves have predicted a mild winter and so far they seem to be right. Bard’s people are turning out to be quite good at hunting as well as fishing, they’re being taught hunting and tracking by the elves, so food’s not really going to be an issue. Bilbo’s got plans for capturing feral livestock just after the first thaws, when the animals are at their weakest and most vulnerable. He think we should be able to get some pregnant sheep and goats, maybe even trap a few cattle yearlings. He’s already got the start of a chicken flock._ **

**_I assuming that you brought the hobbits with you, they haven’t arrived yet, so I’m assuming so. I hope that you and they brought grain seeds for crops, that’s something that we’re going to need, badly._ **

**_Bofur’s finished emptying Windrock and while there was a lot of grain, we have to sort through it to take out any that’s rotten or mildewed. Beorn’s given us almost all his seedstock and cured hides, which are greatly appreciated. Bilbo’s already started preparing some of the fruit trees that Bofur’s team brought, some from Windrock and some from Beorn’s. Apparently, grandmother’s balcony garden is well situated for vegetables and fruit plants._ **

**_We’re being as patient as we can while we wait but dwarves aren’t the most patient of beings, so some days are more frustrating than others._ **

**_There is so much I want to say but there’s so much you need to see to understand, so I’ll do like Bilbo says, take a breath and move onto what I can do._ **

**_Your rooms are ready and waiting._ **

**_Hurry home._ **

**_Thorin._ **

Walking through the forest left an eerie feeling in the caravaners, a feeling of being watched, a feeling of many eyes on them. The elves all agreed and people were quickly ferried forward, the wagons pushed just a little harder, the days starting a little earlier and ending a little later. Everyone wanted out of the forest.

Crossing the River Running nearly lost them a pair of hobbits and only the quick actions of a trio of elves saved Drogo and Primula’s lives and possessions. They did lose a bag of grain but were lucky, in that the two bags holding all their linen caught on rocks just a few yards from the crossing and were quickly rescued by Lirilla.

They made camp early that night and the two were check over and fussed over by Birza and the other hobbits. The next day, Dís insisted that they ride in one of the wagons, the last thing anyone needed was for them to catch pneumonia or a lung infection.

Rounding the northern edge of the lake, Dís finally let herself believe that it would happen, she would walk in the halls of her home, once more. She raised her eyes and let them feast on the mountain. She could see tendrils of smoke curling up from the chimney vents, lazily rising into the now chilly air.

Two days… Two days and she would see her sons. Two days and she would see her brother. Two days and she would sleep under the mountain again.

Two days and she would be home.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lunzel = Good evening  
> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield  
> Imrkh Baggins = Shield Baggins  
> Ashamâkh, nana-ê = hello, my sister

_Two days… Two days and she would see her sons. Two days and she would see her brother. Two days and she would sleep under the mountain again._

_Two days and she would be home._

As the lead wagon rounded the last bend, in the road between Dale and Erebor, Dís saw that they had a welcoming committee wait for them at the gates into the mountain. Dáin, Dwalin and a hobbit, that Dís assumed was Bilbo Baggins, stood to one side of the massive entry.

“Greeting and welcome home to Erebor.” The hobbit called, his voice reaching only the first few ranks of wagons, but his message was passed along and soon a cheer rose from the tired travellers.

A flash of light deep in the depths of the mountain, that was closely followed by an earth-shaking **_THROOM…_** and a few moments later by a gust of smoke-scented air.

“That’ll be the forges lit, then.” Dwalin grunted.

The hobbit nodded. “I’d say so. I hope none of them are burnt or there’ll be words said.”

“Thorin’s good with a Forge.” Dwalin replied. “Ye know that. And he’ll not risk getting burnt, not today, of all days.”

“Why today?” Dís asked as she paused beside them.

“Well, we knew you’d be here today, didn’t we?” The hobbit replied. “And where are my manners? Princes Dís, welcome home. I am Bilbo Baggins, Thorin’s betrothed and the [Uzbadya Imrikh](Royal%20Shield).” He bowed formally to Dís. “Now, before we get into explanations and discussions, let’s get your people settled into their new homes… or old ones, as the case may be… Ori!” Bilbo called over his shoulder and a smartly dressed but tired looking Ori Ri hurried forward. “Ah, there you are, Ori. Have you and your team, finished up the maps for each of our returning residents?”

“Aye, Bilbo, we have.” Ori nodded and pointed to his team, who all held a basket of parchments.

“Excellent, Ori, excellent.” Bilbo smiled at the dwarf. “And what did you come up with for distributing them?”

“As each wagon comes, if they tell me their name, I’ll tell them which dwarf to go to and that dwarf will give them a map. That map will have markings for each level and for their new home.” Ori answered.

“Excellent.” Bilbo turned to the nearest wagon. “And what of their wagons?”

“We’ve put temporary ramps in place, so that they can take the wagons directly to the suites, on all levels bar the Royal levels. All the levels are wide enough for two wagons to pass, easily, so if they pull their wagon to a stop, with the wagon-bed just on the far side of the doors to their new homes, there’ll be enough room for another wagon to go past them.” Ori obediently answered.

“Excellent.” Bilbo said for the third time. “Did you catch that?” He asked the nearest wagon’s driver.

“Aye, [Imrikh](Shield) Baggins. We did.” The dwarf replied respectfully and in the wagon behind him another dwarf nodded.

“Good, good.” Bilbo smiled at the dwarf. “Then come on forward.”

“Aye, sir.” The wagon eased forward. “I’m Terri, sir, and I’ve my wife and son with me.”

“Terri?” Ori flicked through the sheaf of sheets in his hand. “Oh, here we are. Terri, Lani and Lenni. Miner’s Assayer. Level nine, suite six. Go to Gowik, he’s under the sign of a pick.” Ori told the dwarf.

“Thank’ee, sir.” The dwarf flicked his reins and the ponies grunted and began to move.

“Next?” Ori called and the next wagon came forward. “Name?”

“Jota, sir.”

“Hmm… Ah, Jota and Niko. Kitchen hands. Level three, suite four. See Tomi, his sign is a knife and spoon.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome. Next?” Ori called and so began the resettlement of Erebor.

“Now, Dís?” Bilbo eased Dís to one side. “While Ori’s getting that sorted, where are your things?”

“Birza and Razdâna have them.” Dís replied. “We had a little more warning than most so we were able to pack a little more orderly. My trunks, Thorin’s and the boys’ are in Birza’s wagon. And we had no livestock of our own, other than a few chickens, which ended up in a pot while the rest of Thorin’s Gate packed up.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Bilbo smiled. “Dwalin? Would you hunt up the Ladies Birza and Razdâna and their wagon? And see to bringing it as close to the Royal Levels as it will go?”

“Aye.” Dwalin nodded. “I’ll fetch them along, you take Dís up.”

“Not until all our people are inside the mountain.” Dís objected. “And what of the hobbits? Where will they be living?”

“Ah, right.” Bilbo nodded. “That rise over there, to the west?” He pointed and Dís turned to follow where his hand indicated. “That rise is more than large enough for all the hobbits of Hobbiton to build their families a smial, without crowding. And arm of the mountain curves to the south. Between the two arms that enclose Dale’s valley, each hobbit family will have enough ground to have their own smial and a not-so-little garden, just for themselves. The Boglers and the Boffins are some of the best smial building families that the Shire has ever produced. But there’s a lot of them.” Bilbo tilted his head. “I think there are something like a dozen Boffins working as smial builders and maybe a half dozen Bolgers. And now we have at least four of them. They’ll see to homes for our hobbits, as soon as the ground is diggable. For now, they’re in the entrance level visitor’s suites. Hobbit’s don’t do well with heights, otherwise we’d have put them in the ambassadorial suites.”

Dís tilted her head as she thought through what she’d just been told. “Yes…” She mused. “That should work…”

“I hope so.” Bilbo commented. “Otherwise, Bard has offered to house them in the old guardsmen’s rooms, until the smials are ready.”

“Well, we’ll see how it progresses.” Dís nodded.

“Aye.” Bilbo said.

It took a remarkably short length of time before the last wagon approached Ori and the driver gave his name. Ori, in turn gave him the details of the suite allocated to him and which dwarf to go to, to get his map.

Once the wagon entered the mountain, Bilbo turned back to Dís and spoke quietly. “Will you introduce me to Lady Birza and her daughter? And I’ll take you all up to your families.” Gesturing at the two dwarrowdams that had stayed close by after Dwalin had taken their wagon.

“That would be much appreciated, Master Baggins.” Dís replied.

“Oh, no, none of that, Dís.” Bilbo shook his head. “You are Thorin’s sister and I his betrothed. We are family, hobbits will abide no formality within their family. Call me Bilbo.”

Dís gazed at the hobbit with narrowed eyes for a moment before nodding. A few more minutes spent introducing Gloín’s family, and the four were on the move.

“I’m sure you remember the way to the Royal Suites,” Bilbo gave Dís a quiet grin, “but as Birza was born in Ered Luin, I hope you don’t mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, Bilbo.” Dís offered a soft smile. “I’m assuming that my lads are off doing their royal duties?”

“Sort of.” Bilbo grinned. “They’re doing deliveries. Each suite is receiving baskets with meals. You have travelled a long way and you must all be tired. A meal to welcome you is one thing that you don’t have to worry about tonight. Fíli, Kíli, Frerin, Gimli, Bofur, Dáin’s lad Thorin, Bard’s three children, Bain, Sigrid and Tilda and a handful of other youngsters, are running deliveries.”

“Frerin…?” Dís frowned. “Is he the one that joined young Gimli? Did anyone ever find out where he came from?”

“He is.” Bilbo realised that Dís wasn’t aware that the Frerin they were talking about, was actually her brother. “Yes, we did and most of his family are aware of his presence. There’s only a couple that still need to be told, but by morning, it will all be resolved.”

“Where’s he from?” Dís asked, wracking her brain to try and think, who had named a son after her youngest brother?

“Ah, that’s a little complicated.” Bilbo grimaced. “I’d best let Thorin explain that. I’m sure I’d miss something important.”

As they made their way through the maze that was the caverns of Erebor, Bilbo greeted people that he knew, asked after family members or tasks and just generally saying ‘hello’. Reaching the Royal levels, Bombur stuck his head out of the Royal Kitchen long enough to pass along a message.

“[Lunzel](Good%20evening), Bilbo.” Bombur blinked when he saw those with Bilbo. “Princess Dís, Lady Birza, lady Razdâna. Welcome home.” He turned back to Bilbo. “The lads have finished their deliveries and have taken a few pots of vegetables and a platter of meats into the Wing’s communal lounging room.”

“Excellent, Bombur, thank you.” Bilbo gave the rotund cook a brilliant smile. “We’ll head there, directly.” Saying that, Bilbo headed for a set of impressive doors left fractionally ajar. “Shall we?”

“We shall, Bilbo.” Dís said. “I have missed my sons and I want to see with my own eyes, that they are well.”

The pair entered the door, Birza and Razdâna following them. inside they were greeted by a number of dwarves, many of them dropped, exhaustedly, into seats.

Gloín spotted his wife and dragged himself to his feet, stumbled over to her and enveloped her in his arms. After a few moments, he reached out and dragged Razdâna into the hug and a few more moments and Gimli sighed and joined them.

“Amad.” Kíli waved a shaky hand to gain his mother’s attention. “Over here, amad.”

Dís smiled at her son and started in his direction, only to come to a halt a few feet from him and Fíli. Only… it wasn’t Fíli, as he was sitting behind the pair. She studied the blonde dwarf, noting the brilliant blue eyes and familiar braids.

“F-Frerin…?” She whispered, her eyes wide in shock.

“[Ashamâkh, nana-ê](hello,%20my%20sister) .” Frerin's bright and cheery voice answered. “Long time, no see.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashamâkh, nana-ê = hello, my sister  
> nadad = brother  
> Imrikh’s = Shield’s  
> nan’ith = Little sister  
> Sigin’amad = grandmother  
> dashat = son

_“Amad.” Kíli waved a shaky hand to gain his mother’s attention. “Over here, amad.”_

_Dís smiled at her son and started in his direction, only to come to a halt a few feet from him and Fíli. Only… it wasn’t Fíli, as he was sitting behind the pair. She studied the blonde dwarf, noting the brilliant blue eyes and familiar braids._

_“F-Frerin…?” She whispered, her eyes wide in shock._

_[“Ashamâkh, nana-ê](hello,%20my%20sister).” Frerin's bright and cheery voice answered. “Long time, no see.”_

Dís stared at her brother. A brother that had been dead for over a century… almost a century and a half.

But here he sat looking just as he did the morning that she last saw him.

“Frerin…?” She repeated.

“Aye.” He stood and did his best to envelope her in a hug, taking no note of the wide-eyed expression on her face.

She jerked herself from his arm and turned to face Thorin.

“You knew.” Her voice was flat and bland, a sure indication of her ire.

“I did.” Thorin ignored the warning signs.

“You knew.” Her voice was a little harder.

“I did.” Thorin repeated.

“ ** _You knew…”_** Gone was any softness, in it’s place was a raging dwarrowdam that had been denied her family.

“I did…” Thorin said for a third time. “I also knew that if I had said something in a letter, you would not have believed, nor would you have entered this room with an open mind. You would have discarded any chance of believing what your eyes tell you.”

“But-”

“He’s been dead for over a hundred and forty years, Dís.” Thorin sighed. “Of course you wouldn’t have believed it. I saw him with my own eyes and scarcely believed it. How could I expect you, you who was over a thousand miles away, to believe it?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t. And that’s why I said nothing. Without seeing it for yourself, there was no chance of you believing it.”

“I feel that I should be angered by you being able to predict my reactions, [nadad](brother).” Dís huffed at her eldest brother, her anger fading. “But… I have to agree.” She turned back to Frerin. “And you! What did you do with my knuckle-dagger? I had it the morning you left for Azanulbizar but that night it was gone.”

Frerin grinned and held out a small dagger that had a series of loops alongside the grip. “It was with me when I woke up.” He said.

“Woke up?” Dís asked, taking the dagger and holding to her chest.

“I was in the Halls of Mahal for years… and then… I woke beside a fire, in a lush little valley with Gimli asleep on the other side.” Frerin explained. “When he woke…” He went on to tell Dís much the same tale as he’d told Thorin, his Company and Dáin.

“Ah.” Dís nodded and turned back to Thorin. “Sometime soon you and I are going to have words on the training field, [nadad](brother). You didn’t even give me a chance to join the Company, you left straight from the meetings. The lords waited for you to return and argue your case with them and you didn’t. It took nearly a week before the council realised that you’d left for Erebor with only a handful of dwarves.” She huffed.”Really, Thorin? What was the point of even presenting the matter to the council, if you weren’t going give them a chance to argue, either for or against?”

Thorin took a deep breath. “Dís, my darling Dís.” He started. “Frerin isn’t the only one to have been in the Halls.” His head hung low. “I died here. I, Fíli and Kíli. We all died here, reclaiming Erebor. I went to the Halls and for decades, I watched Mahal’s Tapestry. Before Mahal, himself approached me. I woke in Bree, over two years before I died. I was given the chance to live my life again. Fíli and Kíli were with me and both remembered our journey and all the hardships that we faced.”

“As did Bilbo.” Fíli added.

“Aye.” Thorin nodded. “The day we found each other, was the same day that he swore the [Imrikh’s](Shield%E2%80%99s) Oath of Service.” He cast a warm glance at the hobbit. “Since then everything we’ve done is directed toward changing the outcome for Erebor.”

“Your deaths?” Dís narrowed her eyes.

“Not just our deaths.” Thorin shook his head. “We changed the future. If Fíli, Kíli and I had died that day, Dáin would have become King Under the Mountain and while he would have ruled well, the Iron Hills are where his heart lays, not Erebor. ‘Tis no secret that he prefers his Hills to our Mountain.”

“But that meant in the future that was,” Fíli said, “that when Mordor sent it’s troops against our Mountain, the dwarves of Erebor were lead by someone that they weren’t able to fully trust had the best interests of the Mountain in mind. Oh, don’t mistake me, Dáin would do the best he could, but he wasn’t the leader that most wanted.”

“They wanted Thorin.” Kíli said. “They wanted a leader that would do whatever he could for them, not someone who looked to the Iron Hills with longing.”

“We’ve done what we could to see that Erebor has the best future that we can give it, [nan’ith](Little%20sister).” Thorin assured her. “The Darkness that was looming has been… removed… And our people have come home. We are going to do all that we can to ensure that the future for Erebor is bright.”

“But that means a lot of work” Bilbo joined in. “We’ve a lot of planning to do before spring hits and a lot of work to do in preparation. The valley around Dale needs a lot of work before it will be ready for crops, the southern and sou’eastern arms have areas where vines will flourish, but there’s rocks and stones to be cleared before we can plant anything.”

“There were fruit trees along the foot of the southern arm.” Dís tilted her head as she remembered. “[Sigin’amad](grandmother) used to take me walking through them during the spring. Blossoms would fall with every breeze and fill the air with petals and their scent.”

“And vines would be right above them on the arm.” Frerin added. “Row after row of them, trailing up the mountain like giant ropes of green.”

“And the valley.” Dís nodded. “The valley would be a patchwork of gold and green, wheat and crops with bright spots of colour from the fruit.”

“Yes, exactly.” Bilbo nodded. “And that’s what we are going to bring back. We’ve almost finished planting the bare-rooted fruit trees that Bofur and his contingent brought from Windrock and the few fruit trees that we spotted north of the forest. We’ve only a few vines and we’ve no idea whether they’re any good or not, but I’m hoping that the Chubbs brought some of their prize-winning wine vine-stock and that the Seedwrights brought some pipe-weed seeds or seedlings. And that someone brought the barrels of seeds that I had Fortinbras put up.”

“I don’t know.” Dís blinked in thought. “I know that each hobbit wagon had a couple of barrels tucked away, but what was in them…? I don’t know, I left them their privacy as much as I could. Travelling with nearly two-thousand of us, privacy was not easy to come by.”

“Tell me about.” Bilbo huffed. “There were only fourteen of us and privacy was non-existent.”

“Oi!” Kíli objected leaping to his feet.

“Oh, hush, you.” Bilbo snorted. “You were the one most responsive for the lack of it. You and your brother.”

“Oi!” Fíli squawked while Kíli laughed and slung an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders.

Bilbo looked at Kíli’s hand on his shoulder and up to Dís. “I rest my case.” He ducked and Kíli’s arm flailed for a moment before the dwarf lost his balance and stagged into the nearest wall.

Dís chuckled. “Neither of them ever had any respect for other people’s privacy, never have.”

“They’re learning.” Bilbo glared. “The hard way.”

“Never wake a Baggins.” Fíli said seriously.

“No, [dashat](son).” Dís shook her head. “After travelling with them… I’d extend that to _**all**_ hobbits.”

“Let me guess…” Bilbo smirked. “Someone tried to wake Adalgrim, Gorbadoc or Hamfast? And got something thrown at them.”

“Indeed.” Dís nodded. “Dwilik and those on guard duties did. For the most part, it was only stones that were thrown. But Gorbadoc was exceptionally good at using a large frypan to batter them into submission.”

“A large pan..?” Bilbo frowned before his eyes widened. “About a foot and a half wide? Heavy red timber handle?”

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, heavens…” Bilbo whispered.

“What’s wrong, Bilbo?” Thorin asked.

“The big pan.” Bilbo said. “It was grandmother Took’s ten-mouth pan. When she died it was given to mother and when mother died, it was passed along to Aunt Donnamira. How it got to Aunt Mirabella, I don’t know. She married Gorbadoc… oh, it must have been 2918 or ’19… before the old Took died, anyway. I would never have thought Donnamira would have given it up.”

“Not too sure she did.” Dís said. “Mirabella seemed a little too shady about it, when Adalgrim asked.”

“She stole it?!” Bilbo squawked. “Oh, heavens. I wonder who Donnamira will send to try and get it back…?”

“Hildifons and Isengar.” Dís answered.

Bilbo blinked before bursting into a raucous laugh.

“That seemed to be Adalgrim’s reaction, too.” Dís sighed. “I have yet to work out why.”

It took a few moments for Bilbo to regain control but he continued to chuckle randomly for some minutes.

“Hildifons and Isengar stole the pan on a regular basis, from grandmother, mother, Donnamira and each other.” He attempted to smother his chuckles but failed. “Sending them after it was as good as not expecting it back at all.” He tilted his head in thought. “Or them for that matter… Did they stay with the caravan or did they just wander off one day?”

“No, they both stayed with us.” Dís said. “At least until we hit Dale. I didn’t see them while young Ori was giving out accommodation assignments.”

“Oh, well, they’ll turn up… sooner or later.” Bilbo said unconcernedly. “They both tend to wander off for months on end. Hildifons can go for years before he just appears in the smials, one day. No warning, he’s just there at breakfast.”

“Should we be setting a watch for him?” Dwalin asked.

“No.” Bilbo shook his head. “No point, really. He’ll turn up, when he’s ready.”

“In the meantime we have work to do.” Thorin warned.

“And a lot of it.” Dís agreed.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair Warning - This is the longest chapter, by far...  
> The reclaiming of Erebor was in 2941. Bilbo sailed West in 3021. My dates and people's ages are according to Tolkien not Jackson.  
> Uzbadya Imrikh = Royal Shield  
> Iklim Uzbad-Dashat = Crown Prince

_“Hildifons and Isengar stole the pan on a regular basis, from grandmother, mother, Donnamira and each other.” He attempted to smother his chuckles but failed. “Sending them after it was as good as not expecting it back.” He tilted his head in thought. “Or them for that matter… Did they stay with the caravan or did they just wander off one day?”_

_“No, they both stayed with us.” Dís said. “At least until we hit Dale. I didn’t see them while young Ori was giving out accommodation assignments.”_

_“Oh, well, they’ll turn up… sooner or later.” Bilbo said unconcernedly. “They both tend to wander off for months on end. Hildifons can go for years before he just appears in the smials, one day. No warning, he’s just there at breakfast.”_

_“Should we be setting a watch for him?” Dwalin asked._

_“No.” Bilbo shook his head. “No point, really. He’ll turn up, when he’s ready.”_

_“In the meantime we have work to do.” Thorin warned._

_“And a lot of it.” Dís agreed._

Time passed, as it will. Peace enshrouded Erebor and her people prospered. Dramas and excitements were now of the domestic version as opposed to the world-ending type.

Many hobbits flitted around the mountain, their smiles and cheer lifted spirits after an exhausting winter. Outside the mountain, hobbits, elves, men and dwarves toiled hard to finish clearing land for crops and to get them planted.

Elves lead parties into the northern wastes and returned with various feral livestock. Young cattle, sheep and goats were brought in, surrounded by rolling pens. Heavy fences were built along the valley-side of the sou’eastern arm and the animals were placed into large enclosures, sorted by their age and the level of husbandry they tolerated. Feral fowl were trapped using nets and baskets and almost every household outside the mountain had a few hens for eggs.

Sheep were sheared and the fleeces processed into yarn. Geese feathers were gathered for quills. Goats were groomed for their hair. Cows, goats and sheep were milked and milk was put aside for cheese. Animals were used for meat, their bones were ground up and used as fertiliser and their hides cured for leather or parchment.

Thorin was crowned king on the spring solstice. People from many nations attended.

Ecthelion of Gondor attended with his wife, Elana. Their son, Denethor, being a boy of much the same age as Bard’s son, Bain, spent most of his time hiding from his father and playing with Bain and a few other lads.

Elrond of Rivendell brought a small entourage with him, his sons, daughter and foster son. Elrohir, Elladan, Arwen and Estel happily joined Denethor and Bain’s group and were frequently located by the sounds of laughter coming from an abandoned corridor.

Thranduil brought only a few of his personal guard, his wife having passed into the care of Nienna, the Lady of Tears and Queen of the Valar. During his stay he was often seen talking with the [Uzbadya Imrikh](Royal%20Shield) or the White Elf, Galadriel.

Galadriel and her husband Celeborn attended and unlike most of the other elves, they stayed inside the mountain. Many a guard would see one or both of them walking with the [Imrikh](Shield) or one of the other guests.

Summer solstice saw Fíli installed as [Iklim Uzbad-Dashat](Crown%20Prince), in a ceremony as old as dwarven history. It was quietly discussed within the Company, what would Fíli do for an heir? Many things were put forward and many were discarded. Eventually, Fíli, growing tired of the arguments, stood up and said that Frerin would be his heir. That raised the question of what to tell the public about Frerin?

Telling the truth seemed impossible. Who would believe it? Who wouldn’t scoff and discard it out of hand? Not to mention the fanatics that would decry the Valar’s involvement, citing the Valar’s hands-off policy, as far as Middle-Earth was concerned. Would telling the truth put Frerin's life at greater risk?

Bilbo suggested approaching Galadriel and asking what she Saw, her gift of Sight may be of benefit to them. Galadriel laughed and told them that Frerin was clearly the son of Thráin, son of Thrór, there could be no doubting it, his colouring was too Durin for him not to be. She reminded them that Thráin had been missing until just recently. She also suggested using Gimli’s disappearance from Ered Luin as a catalyst, that Gimli had heard rumours of Thráin and had gone on his own quest to find his grandfather’s cousin. Instead he had found Frerin.

Gandalf being the only one to be able to say with certainty that Thráin died at Dol Guldur, made him the only one that could confirm or refute Gimli’s tale. Of course, the old wizard asked, ‘what of Frerin's mother?’ Dwalin was the one to cover this, the lad never knew her, he was raised by others, which was fairly true, as a dwarfling he rarely saw his mother, spending most of his time with Thorin and Balin.

After a steely look from Galadriel, Gandalf nodded his head and reluctantly agreed. An entire conversation was had between the wizard and the elf, that no-one else was a party to, ending in Gandalf backing Thorin when Fíli formally introduced Frerin to Erebor as a son of Durin and his heir.

The story flew around the mountain and whispers of Thorin’s infidelity, even though he was yet to marry, faltered and fell. With Dáin and Gandalf backing Thorin’s statement of Frerin's heritage, rumours fell silent and people were finally able to mourn the loss of a prince. The news of Prince Thráin’s captivity spread like wildfire and the tale of his fall and his sons’ return to Erebor became stories told at bedtimes, in houses all over the world.

Kíli and Tauriel’s wedding was on the autumn solstice and the bride was crowned in leaves of gold and bronze. Her attitude and hardworking nature had won over Erebor’s dwarves. Hearing of her fighting alongside the princes, only endeared her to those that had not faced the armies that day.

The celebration of Durin’s day, that year, was a spectacular event that included Thorin and Bilbo’s wedding. The last King Under the Mountain to marry while he reigned was Nain II in 2405, over five hundred years ago. And never had a King married his Imrikh. Mind you, never had an Imrikh been an outsider, either. The party went on for days, not that the newlyweds knew that, they were happily ensconced in the king’s rooms, discovering that there was more to their relationship than either of them had known.

Gimli and Legolas' wedding was delayed until Gimli reached his majority in 2954. It was clear to most that saw them that the couple were quietly pleased with their betrothal. The pair had already located a dwarrowdam that would carry children for them. A young niece of Dáin’s wife, was craft-wed but agreed to commit to two pregnancies in exchange for sponsoring to Elrond’s Halls of Healing.

Frodo’s birth in 2968, filled the Company with a sense of anticipation. The Fellowship was coming. The little blue eyed faunt won over any that he turned his eyes to. Not even Thranduil was immune to the power of those eyes and the accompanying pouty lips. And his lust for cookies saw him becoming the most daring of faunts, climbing a cupboard to reach the cook jar was nothing to him.

That same year saw Frerin's coming of age. A great party that encompassed the entire mountain, was held. Many gifts were given and many fathers offered their daughters in marriage, but Frerin had other plans, he had already approached Thorin and asked him to mediate a contract between Frerin and Darina, the sister of the dwarrowdam that had carried Gimli and Legolas' children. It would be another two years before they would wed and an additional five before the first of their four children were born.

2978 saw the birth of Denethor’s eldest son, Boromir. Gifts of a set of handcrafted vambraces and a knitted toy dragon were sent from Erebor, carried by Gimli and Legolas. The pair were anxious to see that the lad had a better life than they remembered. Denethor was quietly reminded that Galadriel Saw the return of the king of Gondor happening during his lifetime, and that he’d best behave in a manner that the king would not be displeased with.

Hamfast and Bell welcomed their third son, Samwise, in 2980. He was the fifth child of six and was quick to claim Frodo as his favourite person, happily crawling after the cheeky brunette. It was a remarkably short length of time before Samwise was walking and his parents would have to send an older child to fetch Samwise from the Baggins’ house or garden, when supper time approached.

Merry was the next of the Fellowship to join them, in 2982. The son of the youngest Took girl of her generation, Meriadoc Brandybuck was always ready for a game or a prank. He trundled after Frodo and Sam from the moment he could walk. Where they went, he was sure to follow. 

Word reached Erebor in early 2984 that Denethor and his wife had welcomed a second son, whom they had named Faramir, born in the last days of the previous year. Ellamir, Denethor’s wife, wrote letters to Bilbo and Dís, telling of the adventures of her boys. Getting into the armoury was a regular occurrence and one that Denethor seemed happy to ignore.

Pippin entered the world to laughter and that seemed to follow him for the rest of his days. Born in 2990, during the richest harvest that Erebor had yet seen or would see for decades, his birth was received with cheers and gifts. Eglantine and Paladin Took couldn’t figure out why the Prince Consort gave their son, an apple tree as a birthing gift.

Éomer’s birth in 2991, was welcomed with celebrations throughout Rohan. His thirteen-year-old cousin, Théodred, arguing his position as crown prince gave him the right to be the one to take young Éomer for his first horseback ride. It was Théodred that was responsible to the idea of fostering the young royals across other nations. Meetings were held, options discussed and agreements made. Each young royal would spend a couple of months in the other nations. It took nearly a month for Gondor, Rohan, Erebor, Dale and Rivendell to hash out the details and come up with something that all of them were content with.

2995 heralded the last of those who were prominent in the Battle of Pelennor Fields. Éowyn would one day be known as the White Lady of Rohan, the Sheild-Maiden of Rohan but all who remembered were keen to ensure that Dernhelm, the name she used at Pelennor, would never be needed in battle.

Initially, there were discussions in Erebor as to where to house the fostered royals but Legolas reminded them that Galadriel had already Seen that this would happen and had warned them years before. He presented the first letter from his father, it clearly stated that Galadriel has Seen this and Thranduil had passed the message along.

After that it was a simple matter of enlarging the couple’s suite to include rooms for each of the visitors. Each was decorated in the styles that they would have had in their own rooms, to make them feel more secure and comfortable.

In 3001 Bilbo and Thorin stood together and watched as Fíli was crowned King Under the Mountain.

“We did it.” Bilbo whispered.

“We did.” Thorin nodded. “Erebor is secure again.”

“So…?” Bilbo asked. “What shall we do now?”

“You have tomatoes to grow and I have some silver put aside to make some spoons. Our 60th anniversary is coming and I have yet to make your gift.” Thorin replied.

“And then?”

“Whatever we decide.” Thorin answered. “We are free to live our lives, now. However we choose.”

“Maybe a trip back to the Shire?” Bilbo asked. “Just to rub Lobelia’s nose in the fact that she didn’t get smial or my silver?”

“Why not?” Thorin laughed. “If we can free Middle-Earth from the clutches of Sauron, we can do anything.”

In 3019, a number of people woke one morning, their aching heads filled with memories of things that had not happened.

Frodo climbed from his bed and stumbled into the dining room of Gimli and Legolas' suite flopped into a seat.

“Morning Gimli.” He muttered and cushioned his head on his arms. “Wake me when Elessar and the others are up.”

“…” Gimli made a strangled sound and Frodo lifted his head sharply, realising what he’d said.

“Oh, stars…” Frodo whispered.

“You remember…?” Gimli gasped almost silently.

“Oh, my head…” Pippin wandered in and froze staring at the apples on the table. “Did I miss first breakfast, again? Aren’t apples second breakfast?”

“…I don’t think he knows about second breakfast, Pip…” Merry whispered.

“No throwing apples inside.” Sam snapped his head around to glare at Aragorn and Borormir.

“No.” Instead the future steward of Gondor held out a plate of sliced apples to the future king of Gondor. “My brother, my captain, my king.”

Aragorn let a tear fall. “I kept my word, son of Gondor, the White City did not fall.”

“Oh, bugger…” Bilbo groaned as he entered the room.

“Ah, the dragon-riddler.” Aragorn raised a brow. “Come to join us for breakfast? I do hope so, I’m sure there’s an explanation for all this.” He gestured to the drawn faces of the others in the room.

“There is.” Bilbo nodded.

“Yes.” Frodo spat out a laugh. “Don’t challenge the Valar like Bilbo did.”

“Please explain.” Aragorn’s tone was that of a king of old.

“I woke in Bag End. In my own bed, some two years before Gandalf came looking for a burglar…” He started his tale.


End file.
